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THE 


VESTAL, 


A    TALE    OF    POMPEII. 


Oh  Time  !  thou  beautifier  of  the  dead, 
Adorner  of  the  ruin, 

Amidst  this  wreck,  where  thou  hast  made  a  shrine 
And  temple  more  divinely  (tesolate, 
Among  thy  mightier  offerings  here  are  mine. 

CHILDE  HAROLD. 


BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED     BY     GRAY     A  >'  D     B  O  W  E  >". 
M   DCCC   XXX. 


DISTRICT  OF  MASSACHUSETTS,  TO  W[T. 

District  Clerk's  Office. 

BE  it  remembered,  that  on  the  thirteenth  day  of  September,  A.D. 
1830,  in  the  fifty-fifth  year  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States 
of  America,  Gray  &  Bowen,  of  the  said  district,  have  deposited  in 
this  office  the  title  of  a  book,  the  right  whereof  they  claim  as 
proprietors,  in  the  words  following,  to  wit  : 
"  The  Vestal,  or  a  Tale  of  Pompeii. 

Oh  Time  !  thou  beautifier  of  the  dead, 
Adorner  of  the  ruin, 

Amidst  tiiis  wreck,  where  thou  hast  made  a  shrine 
And  temple  more  divinely  desolate, 
Among  thy  mightier  offerings  here  are  mine. 

CHILDE  HAROLD." 

In  conformity  to  the  act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States, 
entitled  "  An  act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing 
the  copies  of  maps,  charts,  and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprie- 
tors of  such  copies,  during  the  times  therein  mentioned";  and 
also  to  an  act,  entitled,  "  An  act  supplementary  to  an  act,  enti- 
tled, '  An  act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the 
copies  of  maps,  charts,  and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of 
such  copies,  during  the  times  therein  mentioned,'  and  extending 
the  benefits  thereof  to  the  arts  of  designing,  engraving,  and  etch- 
ing historical  and  other  prints." 

JNO.  W.  DAVIS, 
Clerk  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


CAMBRIDGE  : 
E.  W.  METCALF  AND  COMPANY. 


PREFACE. 


AT  the  outset  of  a  tale  like  the  following,  it  seems  pro- 
per to  state  in  what  particulars  actual  facts  have  been 
departed  from.  In  the  description  of  places  and  things,  I 
have  rigidly  followed  the  facts,  as  ascertained  by  the  most 
accurate  description  that  could  be  obtained  on  the  spot, 
aided  by  personal  examination,  except  in  two'instances  ; 
viz.  there  is  no  temple  of  Vesta  yet  discovered,  nor  are 
there  subterranean  passages  beneath  the  city,  like  the 
catacombs  of  Rome  and  Naples.  The  house  of  the  Ves- 
tals, however,  exists  there  precisely  as  described.  The 
house  of  Diomedes  is  the  first  show  non  entering  the  street 
of  tombs,  and  is  well  known  to  all  who  have  visited  this 
most  interesting  city.  The  forums,  the  temples,  the  tombs, 
the  houses,  are  precisely  as  described.  I  have  altered  no 
inscriptions,  and  have  changed  no  names.  Pompeii  as  she 
now  is,  has  sat  for  the  portrait  of  what  she  once  was.  In 
the  house  of  Diomedes,  and  the  sepulchral  chamber  of 
Saturninus,  as  will  he  noticed,  I  have  even  retained  the 
actual  names  of  the  owners  ;  and  in  the  houses  that  I 
have  had  occasion  to  describe,  I  have  selected  particular 
ones,  which  will  be  readily  recognised  by  those  who  have 
visited  Pompeii.  A  more  minute  account  of  those  houses 
will  be  found  in  the  notes.  The  theatres,  the  amphithea- 
tre, the  prisons,  the  quarters  of  the  soldiers,  the  basilica, — 
all  in  short  are  unchanged  from  the  facts. 

But  in  the  following  tale  I  have  not  only  entered  the 
houses  of  the  Pompeians,  I  have  even  occupied  their  very 


iv  PREFACE. 

bones.  The  character  of  the  priest  of  Isis  is  built  upon  the 
manner  in  which  his  bones  were  found ;  and  they  may 
seem  to  afford  but  a  narrow  basis  for  the  superstructure 
reared  upon  them.  He  might  himself  smile  perhaps, 
could  he  look  over  the  pages  of  this  veracious  history,  and 
compare  himself  as  delineated  here,  with  what  he  actually 
was.  He  might  smile — he  probably  would  not  blush. 
His  virtues  are  his  own — his  failings  are  those  of  the 
times,  of  situation,  of  paganism,  and  as  there  is  good  rea- 
son to  believe,  of  the  Pompeian  priests  of  Isis. 

With  regard  to  dates,  I  have  taken  some  liberty.  Pom- 
peii was  buried  A.  D.  79,  under  the  reign  of  Titus.  The 
day  of  the  month  I  find  variously  stated  ;  Pliny  in  his 
letter  to  Tacitus,  mentioning  the  28th  of  August,  another 
the  1st  of  November,  another  the  23d  of  November,  &c, 
It  is  sufficiently  evident  that  it  was  at  the  time  the  inhabit- 
ants were  laying  in  their  winter  stock  of  fruits,  yet  I  have 
thought  it  probable  that  Pliny's  date  was  most  likely  to  be 
correct.  Domitian  succeeded  Titus,  A.  D.  81 ;  and  the 
second  persecution  of  the  Christians  under  that  emperor, 
took  place  A.  D.  95.  It  is  to  this  period  that  I  have  found 
it  convenient  to  defer  the  eruption. 

Pompeii  is  situated  on  a  plain  at  the  distance  of  six  or 
seven  miles  from  the  summit  of  Vesuvius  ;  and  as  we  sit  in 
the  amphitheatre  looking  towards  the  mountain,  it  is  with 
difficulty  we  can  realize  the  possibility  of  such  a  city  being 
buried  by  ashes  thrown  from  such  a  distance.  At  present 
but  one  fifth  part  of  Pompeii  is  disinterred.  Lying  on  the 
"  banks  of  the  sea,  which  wound  round  two  of  its  sides,  it 
formed  a  peninsula.  At  the  part  towards  the  amphithea- 
tre the  shore  made  a  curve  which  extended  to  Stabia. 
Here  was  its  port,  in  a  basin  formed  by  the  embouchure 
of  the  Sarnus. 

Sarrastes  popukw  et  quse  tigat  aequora  Sarnus,—  FirgiZ,'1 


INTRODUCTION. 


PERHAPS  it  will  not  be  considered  as  using  too  strong 
language  to  say,  that  the  whole  world  presents  not  another 
remnant  of  antiquity  of  equal  interest  with  that  of  the  an- 
cient city  of  Pompeii.  After  a  period  of  nearly  two  thou- 
sand years,  when  history  has  become  almost  a  fable,  and 
fable  is  registered  with  the  chronicles  of  history, — when 
facts  and  legends,  in  the  long  line  of  time,  have  become 
blended  together,  as  the  outlines  of  the  far-off  mountain- 
tops  fade  into  the  perpetual  clouds  that  rest  upon  them, 
there  is  a  sensation  of  inexpressible  interest  and  delight  in 
the  feeling  with  which  we  view  this  astonishing  preserva- 
tion of  antiquity  ;  almost  realizing  the  fairy  tale  that  de- 
lighted our  childhood,  in  which  the  sleeping  princess,  who 
had  wounded  her  hand  with  a  spindle,  with  her  whole 
court  was  put  to  sleep  ;  and  when,  after  the  lapse  of 
many  years,  the  enchantment  was  broken,  they  all  awoke 
as  young  as  when  they  first  slept,  and  all  instantly  recom- 
menced the  avocations  that  occupied  them  at  the  moment 
of  the  enchantment,  unconscious  of  the  lapse  of  years,  or 
of  the  changes  of  the  world  around  them. 

To  one  emerging  from  the  noise  and  bustle  of  Naples, 
a  dreamy,  melancholy  repose  seems  to  brood  over  this 
ill-fated  city.  The  ashes  that  buried  it,  covered  with  soil, 
are  sprinkled  with  vines  and  flowers,  that  seem  like  those 
scattered  upon  the  grave.  There  is  enough  here  to  ex- 
a* 


vi  INTRODUCTION. 

cite  contemplation  in  the  lightest  and  the  gayest  mind. 
On  entering  the  limits  of  this  sepulchre  of  a  city,  we  seem 
to  have  stepped  back  over  a  space  of  two  thousand  years. 
We  are  transported  at  once  from  modern  times  to  the  days 
of  our  Saviour  and  of  his  apostles.  The  curtain  that  sepa- 
rated the  past  from  the  present  is  taken  away,  and  we 
breathe  and  move  among  realized  dreams  and  fables. 

Among  the  first  of  our  schoolboy  labors,  is  the  study  of 
ancient  history ;  and  when  by  dint  of  spur  and  whip  we 
toil  heavily  along  through  labored  accounts  of  wars  and 
men,  temples  and  statues,  gods  and  manners,  so  long  be- 
fore our  day,  we  scarcely  realize  that  history  is  other  than 
a  fable,  pleasing  or  otherwise,  according  as  which  of  our 
principal  extremities  did  or  suffered  most  actively  at  that 
period  in  the  cause  of  learning. 

Accordingly,  the  moment  we  set  our  foot  in  Pompeii, 
we  are  in  a  world  of  illusions.  The  temples  and  the  gods 
are  before  us.  The  altars  are  still  reeking  as  it  were 
from  the  sacrifice.  The  bones  of  the  victims  are  around 
them.  Household  utensils,  ornaments,  provisions,  lie  care- 
lessly about,  as  if  just  left  by  the  inmates  of  the  house. 
In  the  temples  we  see  the  secret  passage  and  chamber, 
running  behind  the  altar  and  beneath  the  base  of  the 
statue  of  the  god,  whence  the  sacred  oracles  could  be 
uttered  by  the  priest.  They  have  no  secrets  from  us  now. 
We  are  not  merely  informed  of  their  general  history,  but 
are  admitted  in  penetralia.  We  may  enter  the  family 
circle,  and  witness  its  domestic  economy  ;  we  may  see 
their  wealth,  refinement,  mode  of  life,  furniture,  the  Lares 
and  Penates,  nay,  the  very  remnants  of  the  half-eaten 
meal,  with  the  vessels  overturned  around  them.  Amphora? 
still  recline  against  the  walls  of  the  cellar.-  Loaves  of 
bread  bear  the  name  of  the  baker  stamped  on  them,  while 
the  stamps  themselves  which  were  used  for  this  purpose, 
and  which  have  likewise  been  found,  inspire  only  surprise 


INTRODUCTION.         .  vij 

that  with  so  near  an  approach  to  the  art  of  printing,  that 
art  should  not  have  been  discovered.  We  see,  in  short, 
their  traces  in  every  object,  fresh  as  if  left  but  yesterday — 
strange  as  two  thousand  years  can  make  them. 

But  amid  the  interest  that  all  this  excites  in  the  mind  of 
the  visiter,  there  is  blended  a  feeling  of  disappointment  and 
surprise,  at  perceiving  not  only  how  few  are  the  boasted 
improvements  of  modern  times,  but  absolutely  how  little 
we  have  changed.  The  world  seems  to  have  been  run- 
ning in  a  circle,  and  mistaking  motion  for  progress. 
Household  utensils,  children's  toys,'ornaments,  culinary  ap- 
paratus, the  fine  arts  and  the  mechanic  arts  (in  both  which 
last  they  are  even  capable  of  being  our  masters),  with  the 
luxury  of  their  dwellings,  all  serve  to  fill  us  with  surprise, 
and  prove  to  us  how  much  less  have  been  our  improve- 
ments than  we  have  been  in  the  habit  of  boasting  and 
believing. 

I  have  sometimes  fancied  that  something  even  of  indi- 
vidual character  may  be  gathered  from  the  situation  and 
circumstances  in  which  the  skeletons  are  found.  Thus  in 
the  temple  of  Isis,  one  of  the  priests  was  found  at  table, 
in  the  refectory  of  the  temple.  He  had  been  dining,  and 
the  relics  of  his  meal  lay  before  him.  The  dishes  were 
overturned  on  the  table  ;  and  his  own  bones  lay  scattered 
beneath  his  seat.  He  must  have  been  a  gourmand.  In 
another  cell  of  the  same  temple,  was  one  who  had  lain 
down  and  died  quietly  on  his  bed  ; — and  still  another  who 
had  remained  in  his  cell,  till,  probably,  unable  to  open  the 
door,  from  the  collection  of  ashes  without.  Then,  in  his 
desperate  frenzy,  he  had  seized  a  hatchet,  and  endeavour- 
ed to  beat  through  the  solid  brick  wall.  The  wall  still 
remains  marred  and  beaten,  an  evidence  of  his  violent 
struggle  for  life  ;  while  on  the  floor  beneath  lay  the 
bones  of  the  unfortunate  priest,  his  hatchet  still  grasped  in 
his  skeleton  hand.  Five  skeletons  were  found  not  far 


viii  INTRODUCTION. 

from  the  tomb  of  Salvius  ;  and  among  them  a  woman  who 
had  apparently  been  very  tall  and  gaunt.  They  had  sev- 
eral coins  of  silver  and  bronze  upon  them,  a  bundle  of 
keys,  and  a  pick-lock ;  whence  it  is  supposed  that  they 
were  a  party  of  thieves,  who  had  been  attracted  by  the 
hope  of  plunder,  and  whom  Vesuvius  had  justly  punished. 
Two  skeletons  of  soldiers  were  found  in  the  Civil  Forum, 
near  the  temple  of  Fortune,  who  had  probably  been  on 
duty  there,  and  would  not  abandon  their  post.  One  of 
them  had  been  killed  by  the  sudden  fall  of  a  column.  In 
the  quarters  of  the  soldiers,  there  were  found  in  a  room, 
probably  a  guard-room  or  prison,  the  skeletons  of  four  men 
with  their  feet  in  the  stocks.  Near  this  room,  is  that  of 
the  centurion.  At  the  door  was  found  the  skeleton  of  his 
horse,  most  richly  caparisoned.  The  skeletons  of  upwards 
of  thirty-seven  of  the  soldiers  were  likewise  found  there. 
A  quantity  of  their  arms  was  also  found  in  the  different 
rooms. 

The  walls  of  the  various  apartments  of  the  houses  in 
Pompeii  are  ornamented  with  paintings,  .supposed  to  de- 
signate the  purpose  for  which  the  apartment  was  used. 
The  Appian  Way  enters  the  city  from  Naples  at  the  Her- 
culanean  gate,  the  approach  to  which  is  through  a  street 
bordered  with  beautiful  tombs  of  white  marble  ;  with 
inscriptions  which  show  that  men  felt  and  wept  two  thou- 
sand years  ago  as  now.  Some  of  these  tombs  are  of  a 
brilliant  whiteness  as  if  just  erected  ;  others  are  of  a  dar- 
ker or  yellowish  cast,  as  if  a  long  time  exposed  to  the  air 
and  weather.  This  probably  was  the  case  at  the  time  of 
the  eruption.  The  city  was  much  injured  by  an  earth- 
quake that  occurred  A.  D.  63 ;  and  at  the  time  of  the 
eruption,  they  were  still  occupied  in  repairing  it.  In  one 
place  we  find  half-built  columns  ;  seeming  as  if  the  work- 
men had  just  gone  to  their  meals.  In  another,  a  tomb  half 
finished,  with  the  blocks  of  marble  that  were  to  have  com- 
pleted it,  lying  strewed  about  it.  These  tombs  are  often 


INTRODUCTION.  ix 

of  great  magnificence  and  size,  and  of  every  form  of  ele- 
gance and  beauty.  The  sculptor's  shop  still  exhibits  the 
half  finished  statue  that  he  was  employed  upon  at  the  time 
of  the  eruption.  The  streets  are  narrow,  and  paved  with 
broad,  flat,  irregularly  shaped  stones,  the  product  of  some 
former  eruption.  A  narrow  side-walk  borders  them.  The 
houses  are  low,  small,  and,  for  the  most  part,  covered  with 
stucco  that  is  painted  of  a  dull  red  color.  The  names  of 
the  owners  are  often  painted  beside  the  door.  The  floors 
are  of  mosaic,  laid  in  beautiful  or  fanciful  figures.  Almost 
every  house  is  provided  with  a  bath,  that  great  luxury  of 
the  ancients.  The  houses  are  built  in  the  form  of  a  square 
enclosing  a  central  court.  In  the  middle  of  this  court, 
which  is  often  paved  with  mosaic,  there  is  ordinarily  a 
reservoir,  into  which  small  marble  troughs  conduct  the 
rainwater,  or  the  water  from  the  fountains,  that,  if  I  may 
use  the  expression,  irrigate  the  house.  These  courts  are 
sometimes  open,  sometimes  covered.  A  garden  is  often 
attached  to  the  house,  bordered  by  a  portico  for  promenade. 
Articles  of  food  are  found  in  abundance  ;  fruits,  some  as 
fresh  looking  as  if  yesterday  put  up — loaves  too,  black 
indeed,  and  pies,  except  in  color,  exactly  resembling  our 
own — dates,  olives,  figs,  chesnuts,  &c.,  in  abundance. 
Pots,  kettles,  saucepans,  stewpans,  spoons,  moulds  for 
pastry,  &c.,  with  all  the  culinary  apparatus  ;  surgical  in- 
struments, children's  toys,  bracelets,  rings,  cameos,  seals 
&c.  all  serve  to  impress  the  idea  that  there  is  nothing  new 
under  the  sun.  Keys  stand  half  turned  in  the  locks,  fixed 
in  that  position  by  the  enchantress — rust.  The  streets  are 
furrowed  with  ruts.  Shops,  where  liquors  of  some  kind 
were  sold,  still  bear  on  their  stone  counters  the  marks 
where  the  wet  glass  has  been  inverted  upon  them,  and 
stained  them  with  the  mark  of  its  rim.  Mills  are  seen 
consisting  of  a  conical  stone,  upon  which  a  concave  stone 
being  fitted,  turns  on  its  centre,  and  crushes  the  grain. 


x  INTRODUCTION. 

Inscriptions,  scribbled  upon  the  walls  by  boys  or  idle  per- 
sons, advertisements  painted  upon  them,*  public  notices  of 
magistrates,  &c.  all  confirm  the  fact  that  cities,  boys,  and 
magistrates,  are  the  same  now  as  in  the  time  of  our  Sa- 
viour. The  female  toilet  too,  differs  not  greatly  from  that 
of  the  present  day.  Combs,  hair-pins,  whose  heads  are  of 
every  elegant  form,  metal  mirrors,  tooth-picks,  ear-picks, 
pins,  thimbles,  and  even  rouge  ! !  "  Regarde-les,  o  lecteur," 
says  Bonucci,  after  enumerating  the  various  articles  of  the 
'munclus  muliebris,'  "  et  tu  diras  qu'on  les  a  voles  a  ta 
maitresse.  Eh  bien !  tu  sais  maintenant  que  la  coquetterie 
est  plus  ancienne  que  tu  ne  1'aurois  pu  supposer." 

"  These  habitations,"  says  Bonucci,  "were  the  abodes 
of  luxury  and  softness.  The  free  threshold  seems  still  to 
invite  to  hospitality  by  the  beautiful  word  Salve.  Varie- 
gated mosaics  and  precious  paintings  embellish  their  floors 
and  walls.  There  are  seen,  in  abundance,  arabesques,  land- 
scapes, divinities,  and  interesting  histories.  At  each  instant 
_we  meet,  now  lascivious  satyrs  and  charming  nymphs, 
now  drunken  Bacchantes  and  voluptuous  dancing-girls, 
with  forms  so  delicate  and  BO  seducing,  that  neither  did 
Guido  so  well  represent  the  Hours,  nor  were  the  Graces 
so  charming  under  the  pencil  of  Albano  and  of  Carlo 
Dolce.  Their  architecture  is  simple  and  ingenious.  Courts 
and  porticoes  form  the  interior ;  and  these  last  remind  us  of 

*  The  following  is  a  specimen  : — 

N.  POPIDI 

RUFI  FAM.  GLAD.  TV.  K.  Nov.  POMPEIIS 
VENATIO.  ET  xn.  KAL.  MAI 

MALA  ET  VELA  ERUNT 
O.  PROCURATOR.     FELICITAS. 

"  The  gladiatorial  family  of  Numerius  Popidius  Rufus  will  give» 
on  the  29th  of  October,  a  hunt  in  Pompeii ;  and  on  the  20th  of 
April  will  be  erected  the  poles  and  awning  of  the  amphitheatre, 
Octavius  Procurator.  May  happiness  attend  you." 


INTRODUCTION.  xi 

the  favorite  custom  of  the  ancients  of  walking  there  half 
the  day,  discussing  the  objects  of  the  Lyceum  with  their 
friends  and  freedmen — recall  to  us  the  dialogues  of  Atticus, 
of  Cicero,  and  of  Pliny. 

"  Further  on  we  observe  the  place,  where,  after  hav- 
ing spent  half  the  day  in  business,  the  Pompeian  refreshed 
himself  with  the  bath,  anointed  himself  with  essences,  and, 
stretched  voluptuously,  on  cushions,  raised  languidly  his 
head  to  taste  of  the  most  exquisite  viands,  while  the  flow- 
ers of  the  neighbouring  garden  exhaled  for  him  the  sweetest 
perfumes.  On  the  other  sicie,  we  observe  the  secret  cham- 
ber of  the  timid  girl.  She  could  see  from  her  little  win- 
dow only  the  long  porticoes  of  her  garden.  There  may  be 
still  seen  her  toilet  and  her  low,  narrow*  bed,  which,  for- 
merly covered  with  carpets  of  Tarentum,  invited  her  to 
repose,  while  the  silent  lamp,  the  sole  confidant  of  her 
charms,  threw  over  her,  from  the  gilded  candelabrum,  a 
languishing  light." 

"  Among  the  temples,"  observes  the  same  author,  "  that 
of  Isis  was  one  of  the  first  discovered.  There  every  thing 
breathes  of  mystery.  The  Goddess  is  veiled  ;  she  repre- 
sented Nature.  With  one  hand  she  held  a  sacred  instru- 
ment, with  the  other  the  key  of  the  Nile.  Jt  is  thus  that 
the  ancients  deified  th,eir  interests.  We  next  behold  the 
temple  of  Fortune,  adorned  with  the  statue  of  Cicero  and 
that  of  Venus. 

"  How  many  recollections  does  this  last  excite  !  Young 
girls,  half  naked,  crowned  with  myrtle  and  roses,  there 
executed  their  dances,  and  made  the  offering  of  their  sighs 
and  of  their  hearts. 

"  It  is  very  difficult  to  resist  the  illusions  of  paganism  in 
entering  its  temples.  The  vestibules,  the  altars  still  cov- 
ered with  the  ashes  of  the  sacrifice,  the  mythologic  paint- 
ings, and  the  richly  painted  columns,  seem  to  transport  you 
into  another  world.  Imagination  paints  the  priests  in  their 


xii  INTRODUCTION. 

long  robes  pouring  the  sacred  incense  from  their  censers  ; 
the  sacrifices — the  victims — the  crowd — its  deep  silence — 
and  the  choir  of  young  boys  and  girls  who  chanted  alter- 
nately the  hymn  of  Venus  Genitrix  and  of  Quirinus.  Add  to 
all  this  the  murmur  of  some  fountain,  the  multitude  of  stat- 
ues, the  monuments  of  different  ages  and  nations,  the  works 
of  the  Pelasgi,  of  the  Samnites,  and  of  the  Caesars,  over 
which  twenty -seven  centuries  have  passed  with  more  than 
the  rapidity  of  a  summer's  night, — the  banks  of  the  Sarno, 
which,  ashamed  to  bear  a  name  once  so  celebrated,  glides 
silently  along  and  hides  itself  beneath  the  ruins, — in  fine, 
an  indescribable  something  of  tenderness  and  melancholy 
in  the  air,  in  the  outlines  of  the  sea  and  of  the  mountains, 
and  we  shall  have  some  idea  of  the  interest  that  Pompeii 
now  offers  to  the  beholder." 


TALE    OF    POMPEII. 


CHAPTER  I. 

TRAVELLING  with  a  friend  from  Rome  to  Naples, 
we  stopped  one  night  at  the  little  town  of  Nettuno, 
upon  the  shores  of  the  Sicilian  sea,  near  the  site  of  the 
ancient  Antium.  Here  my  friend  was  taken  severely 
ill,  which  of  course  detained  us  some  days.  Mean- 
time I  became  acquainted  with  a  Catholic  priest,  a 
candid  and  intelligent  man,  with  whom  I  soon  grew 
intimate. 

As  my  friend's  recovery  advanced,  I  often  took  short 
excursions  in  the  neighbourhood,  preferring  those  by 
water,  on  account  of  his  health,  as  he  was  then  able  to 
accompany  us.  One  of  our  first  trips  in  that  way  was 
to  the  beautiful  little  island  of  Palmaria,  that  was  visi- 
ble from  our  hotel.  But  I  could  not  avoid  noticing  an 
unusual  degree  of  thoughtfulness  that  all  day  hung 
about  the  worthy  father.  I  ventured  to  inquire  the 
cause. 

He  smiled.  "  There  is  a  legend,"  he  said,  "  some- 
what connected  with  that  island,  which  I  have  lately 
met  with  among  the  old,  worm-eaten  manuscripts  of 
our  convent ;  and  the  recollection  of  its  details  came 
1 


2  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

so  fresh  over  my  mind,  that  it  caused  the  somewhat 
unusual  circumstance  of  my  taciturnity.  This  manu- 
script was  originally,  as  it  seems,  in  the  possession  of  a 
hermit,  who  lived  on  this  island.  But  at  his  death  it 
somehow  found  its  way  into  our  convent,  and  is  now 
in  my  possession." 

"  May  I  beg  the  favor  of  perusing  it  ?  "    I  asked. 
"  Assuredly  ;  I  will  send  it  this  evening  to  your  inn." 
He  kept  his  word.     An  hour  after  parting  with  him, 
I  had  the  satisfaction  of  receiving  an  old,  musty,  worm- 
eaten   scroll.     My  friend   retired   to  bed,  raising  his 
shoulders  with  pillows,  that  he  might  listen  at  his  ease. 
Then  trimming  my  lamp  and  putting  up  my  feet  on 
the  table,  with  my  chair  lolling  luxuriously  backwards, 
I  read  to  my  friend  the  following 


TALE  OF  POMPEII. 


;s  of  nati 


BORN  amid  the  free  and  beautiful  scenes  of  nature, 
solitude  produced  its  usual  effect  on  a  sensitive  tem- 
perament and,  I  may  say,  a  rather  cultivated  mind.  I 
loved  it.  I  wooed  it  as  a  lover  a  mistress.  I  was  never 
happy  but  when  wandering  under  the  leafy  arches  of 
the  woods.  The  noonday  sun  and  starry  midnight 
found  me  still  faithful  to  this  first  love.  Often  would  I 
pass  the  long  summer's  day,  stretched  lazily  on  the 
bank  of  a  little  stream,  that  flowed  noisily  enough 
through  the  depths  of  a  wood,  which  I  had  made  my 
favorite  haunt,  watching  the  figures  of  the  clouds  that 
seemed  to  float  over  me  as  lazy  and  as  listless  as  my- 
self. There  I  bowed  in  secret  to  the  Dryads,  and  Naiads, 
and  Oreads  ;  while  a  little  Harpocrates  stood  crowned 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  3 

with  flowers  upon  the  bank  of  the  stream,  which  I  had 
thus  dedicated  to  silence  and  myself. 

My  character,  suffered  thus  to  fashion  itself  amid 
such  scenes,  became,  as  commonly  happens  under  such 
circumstances,  dreamy  and  visionary.  I  was  naturally 
shy,  and  proud,  and  diffident.  Of  course  I  was  reserv- 
ed ;  and  many  took  reserve  for  coldness,  and  believed 
the  heart  to  be  cold  as  Alpine  snows,  whose  feelings 
were  deep  and  intense  as  the  secret  fires  of  Vesuvius. 
What  mattered  it  to  me  1  I  cared  not,  or  I  thought  I 
cared  not,  for  the  opinions  of  others.  But  I  knew  not 
myself.  I  knew  not  that  such  an  education  causes  at 
the  same  time  extreme  sensibility  to  the  opinions  of 
others,  and  perfect  inability  to  step  boldly  forth  on  the 
arena  of  life,  and  wrestle  manfully  against  them. 

But  the  time  was  fast  coming  when  this  dream  was 
to  be  broken.  Domitian  had  succeeded  to  the  throne 
of  his  brother.  My  father  had  a  villa  in  the  suburbs 
of  the  city  of  Pompeii,  just  without  the  gates  ;  and  as 
I  had  now  arrived  at  an  age  when  he  wished  to  see  me 
married,  he  proposed  to  leave  his  rural  dwelling  for  a 
time,  and  remove  to  the  city,  where  he  could  more 
readily  accomplish  his  object. 

While  we  were  slowly  making  our  preparations  for 
this  to  me  important  event,  it  was  suddenly  reported 
that  the  Emperor  was  about  making  a  visit  to  this  de- 
lightful little  city.  There  was  no  longer  time  nor 
desire  for  delay.  Hitherto  I  had  not  well  known  my  own 
sentiments  with  regard  to  the  contemplated  removal. 
I  loved  my  solitary,  dreamy  life  too  well  to  quit  it  with- 
out a  pang.  Yet  to  a  youth,  whose  whole  life  had 
hitherto  been  spent  in  the  quiet  retirement  of  the 


4  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

country,  it  wUs  an  event  pregnant  with  anticipations  of 
astonishment  and  delight,  to  go  for  the  first  time  to  the 
city — to  see  the  games  and  the  fights  of  the  amphithea- 
tre— to  hear  the  music  of  the  Odeon — the  recitations 
and  representations  of  Ennius  and  Pacuvius  at  the 
tragic  theatre — to  behold  the  pomp  of  religious  shows 
and  processions — tlje  temples,  and  altars,  and  statues, 
only  faint  and  exaggerated  reports  of  all  which  had 
as  yet  awakened  my  fancy,  brought  up  by  some 
straggling  rustic,  who  had  occasionally  strayed  to 
so  great  a  distance  from  home,  for  the  purpose  of 
selling  his  superfluous  produce  in  the  crowded  mart  of 
the  Forum  Nundinarum,  and  who  had  returned  in  safety 
to  astonish  his  gaping  neighbours  with  the  wonders  he 
had  seen  and  heard.  But  above  all  it  delighted  me 
that  I  should  see  the  Emperor,  and  with  him  all  that 
pomp  and  parade,  which  must  of  course,  on  such  an 
occasion,  fill  the  little  city  with  life,  and  astonishment, 
and  delight.  All  these  thoughts  crowded  through  my 
mind,  blending  with  and  tempering  the  pang  that  I 
felt  at  leaving  my  lovely  and  beloved  solitude.  One 
other  sentiment,  one  spark  of  a  better  feeling,  mingled 
with  my  pleasure  on  this  occasion.  It  was,  that  I 
should  see  the  urn  of  my  mother,  whose  loss  I  had 
never  ceased  bitterly  to  deplore. 

It  was  near  the  kalends  of  July  that  we  removed  to 
the  city.  Never  shall  I  forget  the  bustle  and  the  sen- 
sations attending  our  departure.  After  the  greater  part 
of  the  night,  spent  in  packing,  and  unpacking,  and  re- 
packing-, in  giving  orders  and  countermanding  them  ; 
jn  wondering,  and  bustling,  and  making  all  the  confu- 


TALE  OP  POMPEII.  5 

sion  possible  ;  at  about  three  o'clock* l  our  large,  old- 
fashioned  travelling  carriage,  a  rheda,  inlaid  with  silver 
and  ivory,  and  drawn  by  three  mules,  came  lumbering 
to  the  door. 

Strange  as  it  might  sound  in  many  ears,  although 
scarcely  a  day's  ride  from  Pompeii,  I  had  never  before 
undertaken  what  then  seemed  to  me  so  vast  a  journey, 
as  a  visit  to  it ;  and  now  that  I  was  actually  commencing 
it,  it  seemed  almost  impossible  to  realize  so  astonishing 
and  unusual  an  event.  Porcia,  my  kind  and  ever  gen- 
tle sister,  although  not  less  delighted  than  myself,  sat 
lost  at  once  in  wonder  and  in  silence  ;  while  my  fath- 
er's grave  and  serious  countenance  relaxed  into  a 
smile — happy,  because  we  were  so. 

Our  course  lay  through  the  laughing  vineyards  of 
Campania,  and  along  the  base  of  the  everburning 
Vesuvius. 

With  all  the  diligence  that  we  could  exert,  which  in 
sooth  was  not  much,  it  was  not  till  the  close  of  the 
third  hour  of  the  first  watch,  that  we  arrived  at  my 
father's  villa,3  within  the  suburbs  of  the  city.  Here 
the  constant  throng  of  passengers,  the  rumbling  of 
cars,  the  shouts  and  noises  of  men  and  boys,  and  the 
occasional  flashing  of  lights,  serving  but  to  show  the 
dark  outlines  of  what  I  then  took  to  be  houses,  but 
afterwards  found  to  be  tombs,  only  served  to  weary  and 
exhaust  me  with  my  own  fruitless  efforts.  My  imagi- 
nation, excited  by  its  own  fervor,  and  exhausted  by  my 
vain  toil  to  distinguish  objects  amid  the  indistinctness 
of  night,  at  length  yielded  to  weariness  and  fatigue,  in 
spite  of  the  novelty  and  excitement  of  my  new  situa- 

*  About  9  of  modern  time.  See  note  I,  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 
1* 


Q  TALE  OF  POMPEEI. 

tion,  and  after  long  tossing  on  my  restless  couch,  I  at 
last  fell  into  a  deep  sleep. 

It  was  late  the  next  morning  when  I  awoke,  and  it 
was  some  time  before  I  could  sufficiently  command  my 
thoughts,  to  recollect  my  change  of  situation.  Never 
shall  I  forget  the  sensation  that  came  over  me,  as  the 
thought  flashed  upon  me,  "  I  am  in  Pompeii."  I  threw 
on  my  dress  as  hastily  as  possible,  and  girding  my 
tunic,  and  thrusting  my  right  arm  for  modesty's  sake3 
under  the  manly  gown,  which  my  father  had  not  long 
permitted  me  to  assume,  although  nearly  three  years 
beyond  the  usual  age,  I  sallied  forth  into  the  street. 

Here  I  found  myself  surrounded  at  once  by  the 
abodes  both  of  the  living  and  of  the  dead  ;4  and  of  all 
objects,  the  latter  was  one  from  which  I  always  turned 
with  a  sensation  of  unutterable  loathing  and  horror.  It 
was  a  melancholy  thought  to  a  character  dreamy  and 
impassioned  as  mine — the  power  that  was  to  blast  for 
ever  all  my  burning  affections  and  thoughts.  There  was 
a  shuddering  and  a  horror  came  over  me  wherever  I 
dared  to  fix  the  monster  death,  and  to  gaze  for  an  inter- 
minable moment  on  his  ghastly  face.  This  horror  cer- 
tainly was  not  mitigated,  when  the  first  thing  that  met 
my  view  was  my  family  name  engraved  on  a  sepul- 
chre, in  the  centre  of  a  frontispiece  of  white  marble 
with  Corinthian  pilasters  at  the  sides. 

M.  ARRIUS  J.  L.  DIOMEDES 

SIBI  Suis  MEMORY 
MAGISTER  PAG.  AVG.  FELIC.  SUB  URB. 

"  And  here,"  then  thought  I,  "  lie  the  poor  ashes 
of  what,  was  once  my  mother,  never  to  revive  again. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  7 

Here  is  the  desolate  end  of  that  deep  love,  which 
through  the  wide  world,  and  the  long  life,  comes  not 
a  second  time  to  any.  In  bitterness  of  spirit  I  wept 
over  the  ashes,  that  never  before  were  insensible  to  my 
grief,  as  I  twined  a  coronal  of  fresh  flowers  around  the 
alabaster  urn  ; — for  there  is  Something  in  our  hearts 
that  always  claims  kindred  with  flowers — a  language 
that  will  touch  the  heart ; — for  they  too  fade  away  like 
all  loved  and  lovely  things  ;  and  on  the  blossom  in 
whose  bosom  the  bee  has  revelled  to-day,  the  canker- 
worm  will  banquet  to-morrow,  and  we  may  mourn  and 
moralize  over  the  beautiful  ruin,  but  the  spoiler  within 
will  not  heed  us." 

Scattered  about  were  other  mementos  of  those  of 
my  family  who  had  preceded  me  to  the  gloomy  regions 
of  Pluto. 

"  Why,"  thought  I,  "  why  should  the  heart  ever  love, 
if  that  lover  is  for  ever  to  be  wrung  by  separation  1 
Why  should  our  affections  become  the  racks  to  torture 
us  ?  Why  should  heart  ever  be  bound  to  heart,  if  ties 
so  delightful  in  life,  become  to  the  survivor  at  death, 
only  barbed  arrows  to  be  torn  from  its  quivering,  bleed- 
ing core  ?  "  But  my  heart  from  its  inmost  depths  sent 
back  the  answer,  "  Thou  too  shalt  die." 

"  Thou  shalt  die  !  "  There  it  was — death,  the  fiend 
that  scared  peace  from  me.  Could  I  lose  all  at  once, 
I  thought,  could  I  stand  alone,  however  gloomy  the 
security,  I  should  still  be  happy.  Death,  that  bugbear 
of  my  peace,  was  ever  with  me.  He  met  me  at  every 
turn,  and  spoke  to  me  from  every  object.  The  world 
seemed  to  irie  one  vast  charnel-house,  and  wherever 
I  directed  my  view,  the  grave  bounded  the  prospect. 


8  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

"  Thou  shalt  die."  Wherever  I  turned  my  eyes,  I 
read  it  in  characters  of  ice.  Amid  the  warmest  pulses 
of  life,  and  the  most  brilliant  hours  of  joy,  the  fatal 
sentence  came,  freezing  and  chilling  my  soul  like  a 
blast  from  the  tomb.  I  watched  the  young  birds,  as 
they  warbled  their  first  notes,  and  stretched  forth  their 
untried  wings  for  life's  commencing  task.  I  looked  at 
the  budding  rose,  when  it  first  peeped  out  from  be- 
neath its  green  covering,  kissed  into  being  by  the 
genial  sun,  and  I  thought,  "  How  vainly  do  ye  pour 
forth  a  music  that  the  next  winter  will  silence,  or  ex- 
hale a  fragrance  that  the  next  breath  even  of  the  sum- 
mer wind  may  scatter  !  Ye  shall  die." 

Wherever  my  eye  or  my  heart  rested,  they  shrunk 
withered  before  the  fatal  truth.  It  was  written  on  the 
blossoms  of  spring,  on  the  summer  roses,  and  the  au- 
tumn leaf.  Sleep  shut  it  not  from  my  eyes.  The 
voice  of  mirth  died  on  my  lips,  and  when  my  tongue 
would  have  given  utterance  to  the  jest,  it  died  away  in 
the  sentence,  "  Thou  shalt  die."  In  vain  at  the 
banquet  did  I  strive  to  forget  the  decree — in  the 
brightest  cup  I  saw  "  death  "  written  at  the  bottom. 
At  the  feast  it  was  always  at  my  side  that  the  skeleton 
reclined.5  In  vain  about  the  funeral  urn,  sculptured 
Bacchanals  and  dancing  Satyrs  moved  in  the  lifeless 
marble — in  vain  roses  twined  around  it,  cheating  and 
seducing  the  imagination  by  artificial  beauties,  from 
the  poor  ashes  there.  My  heart  saw  too  truly  through  • 
the  smiling  exterior — it  was  still  death  within. 

Such  were  my  feelings  then,  as  I  passed  hastily 
through  this  melancholy  street,  observing  the  differ- 
ent inscriptions  to  the  Bus  MANIBUS.  Here  I  saw 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  9 

N.  VELASIO  GRATO  Vix.  ANN.  XII.  Near  it  another 
to  SALVIUS  PUER  Vix.  ANN.  V.  Near  it  another  large 
tomb,  SERVILIA  AMICO  ANIMJE. 

Statues  and  inscriptions  and  urns  and  villas  rose 
thick  around  me.  I  passed  hastily  on,  till  I  found  my- 
self at  the  gates  of  the  city.  After  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion I  resolved  not  to  enter  ;  but  turning  aside  to  the 
right,  I  threw  myself  into  a  semicircular  seat  that  I 
noticed  there,  to  enjoy  the  delightful  prospect  of  the 
gulf  and  the  neighbouring  mountains — of  Stabia,  the 
cape  of  Misenum,  and  the  island  of  Capri.  But  an- 
other loftier  association  attached  itself  to  this  seat. 
Here,  as  I  well  knew,  it  was,  that  Cicero,  whose  fame 
has  filled  the  world,  was  accustomed  to  sit  and  con- 
verse with  the  augur  Scaevola  "  in  hernicyclo  sedente, 
ut  solebat."  Here,  too,  he  wept  his  beloved  Tullia, 
and  recited  to  Marcus  Marius,  and  to  Psetus,  the  trea- 
tises that  he  wrote  at  Pompeii. 

Around  the  seat  was  the  following  inscription.  MAM- 
MIJE  P.  F.  SACERDOTI  PUBLICS  Locus  SEPULTUR.  DA- 
TUS  DECURIONUJM  DECRETO.  After  some  time  enjoy- 
ing my  reflections  on  this  seat,  I  at  length  prepared  to 
return. 

•  But  what  greatly  surprised  me,  was  the  vast  torrent 
of  living  beings,  that  was  continually  pouring  into  the 
city.  It  seemed  as  if  the  whole  of  Campania  had  been 
giving  up  its  inhabitants,  in  order  to  pour  them  into 
the  city.  There  were  long  trains  of  waggons  closely 
covered,  but  which,  from  the  occasional  growling  and 
roaring  within,  evidently  contained  wild  beasts ;  the 
incessant  oaths  of  the  car-drivers,  as  their  mules, 
though  well  trained,  started  aside  as  they  suddenly 


10  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

heard  the  deep  roar  of  the  lion,  or  the  angry  snarl  of 
the  tiger ;  filling  the  air  with  invocations  and  impreca- 
tions to  and  by  Hercules  and  Jupiter  and  Apollo  and 
the  whole  catalogue  of  divinities,  uttered  in  every  lan- 
guage and  in  every  different  dialect.  I  attributed  my 
surprise  at  all  this  uproar  to  my  rusticity  and  ignorance 
of  city  manners  and  customs. 

It  was  with  some  difficulty  that  I  could  make  my 
way  through  the  increasing  crowd,  which  was  all  pour- 
ing into  the  city,  back  through  the  street  of  tombs  to 
my  father's  house. 


CHAPTER  IT. 

ON  entering  the  house,  I  found  my  father  convers- 
ing with  a  plump,  rosy-cheeked,  merry-looking  priest, 
Whom  he  introduced  to  me  as  Caius  Marcus,  a  priest 
of  Isis,  and  an  old  friend  of  his. 

"  So,"  said  the  latter,  "  you  have  stolen  a  march 
upon  me ;  and  while  I  was  thinking  to  do  the  honors 
of  the  city  to  the  son  of  my  old  friend  here,  he  has 
been  running  about  alone,  to  enjoy  his  pleasure  and 
his  surprise  by  himself.  Well,  you  have  been  to  the 
amphitheatre,  I  suppose  1  " 

"  To  the  amphitheatre,"  I  ejaculated  in  surprise ; 
u  why  i » 

"  Do  you  not  know,"  he  replied,  surprised  in  hid 
turn,  "  that  to-day  there  is  to  be  a  famous  exhibition  of 
gladiators,  and  wild  beasts,  and  Christians,  in  honor  of 
the  Emperor  ?  " 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  1 1 

I  felt  the  blood  start — bound  through  my  veins.  I  was 
arrived  at  the  summit — ay,  above  the  summit  of  my 
most  sanguine  hopes.  Not  only  should  I  enjoy  the 
long-coveted  sight  of  what  I  had  so  long  heard  in  the 
quiet  of  the  country,  as,  in  the  stillness  of  night,  men 
listen  to  the  far-off  echoes  of  music,  but  I  should  actu- 
ally see  the  Emperor.  Alas !  pleasure  is  not  always 
"  enjoyed" 

I  answered  I  know  not  what,  but  some  extravagance 
expressive  of  delight.  The  broad,  jolly  countenance  of 
the  priest  expanded  in  sympathy  with  mine. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  eat  a  little  first ;  for  you  will  feel 
hungry  enough  before  we  have  done  ;  and  if  I  might 
venture  to  recommend,  I  know  nothing  better  than 
eggs  and  chickens,  moistened  with  a  draught  of  good 
old  Massicum,  such  as  stands  in  the  amphorae  below* 
leaning  against  the  wall.  I  know  it  well,  that  wine. 
It  is  the  true  Massicum  ;  inferior  to  nothing  but  your 
true  Falernian,  and  that  is  fit  only  for  gods." 

"  And  their  priests,"  rejoined  my  father. 

"Certainly,"  replied  the  ruby-faced  Marcus  ;  "  but 
more  especially  is  it  befitting  the  priests  of  Isis." 

"  Exactly  so,"  said  my  father.  "  Theirs  is  such  a 
life  of  austerity  and  self-denial,  that  they  require  it  to 
strengthen  them  in  the  performance  of  their  sacred 
rites." 

"  True,"  returned  Marcus.  "  By  Hercules,  that 
poet  fellow  of  Venusia  had  the  true  taste  for  the  beau- 
tiful. Jove  !  how  those  fellows  know  good  wine. 
Why,  Horace  might  have  been  a  priest  of  Isis,  instead 

*  And  which  stand  there  to  this  very  hour  in  the  cellar  of  the 
house  of  Diomedes. 


12  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

of  a  mere  favorite  of  Augustus.  My  father  knew  him 
well.  He  used  to  call  him  the  blear-eye  ;  and  when 
the  emperor  dined  with  Horace  at  his  right  hand  and 
Virgil  at  his  left,  (the  Mantuan  always  had  a  wheezing 
asthma,)  he  used  to  say,  that  he  sat  between  sighs  and 
tears." 

Meantime,  delighted  with  the  unexpected  news,  I 
ran  to  my  sister's  apartment  to  inform  her  of  it  and  to 
invite  her  to  go. 

"  No,"  said  the  gentle  girl  ;  "  I  am  too  much  of  a 
rustic  to  desire  to  witness  such  an  exhibition,  and  I 
will  content  myself  with  your  description,  Lucius." 
Accordingly  I  returned  to  my  priest,  who  was  still 
laughing  at  the  emperor's  oft-repeated  jest,  and  signi- 
fied my  readiness  to  attend  him.  We  were  soon  crush- 
ed and  crushing  in  the  crowd,  that  was  squeezing  its 
way  into  the  city.  On  arriving  at  the  gates,  I  saw, 
what  indeed  I  had  before  noticed,  a  soldier  standing 
at  each  little  gate.6  If  I  was  surprised  at  the  narrow- 
ness of  the  streets,  I  was  yet  more  so  to  see  with  what 
perfect  order  all  this  multitude  passed  on,  not  only 
without  accident,  but  even  without  danger.  Whenever 
we  approached  a  corner,  we  were  almost  deafened  with 
the  sharp  jangling  of  the  bells,7  attached  to  the  cars  or 
litters  of  those,  who,  borne  luxuriously  along,  thus  at 
once  gave  notice  to  the  crowd  to  give  place,  and  for- 
bade any  other  car  from  turning  into  the  same  street 
till  they  had  passed  the  corner. 

We  followed  in  the  great  tide  of  living  beings  that 
was  now  flowing  through  every  avenue  to  the  amphi- 
theatre. Passing  straight  on  for  some  distance,  we 
turned  to  the  left,  and  in  an  instant  after  to  the  right. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  13 

The  crowd  for  the  most  part  continuing  straight  on, 
by  our  last  turn,  we  avoided  a  great  share  of  its  uncom- 
fortableness  and  jostling.  Still,  however,  a  very  con- 
siderable number  seemed  to  be  of  our  opinion,  and 
turned  likewise.  This  irritated  my  merry  conductor, 
who  turning  again  to  the  right,  left  the  crowd  to  pass 
on.  I  soon  found  myself  in  a  large  oblong  square,  bor- 
dered on  three  of  its  sides  by  magnificent  porticoes, 
sustained  by  colonnades  of  superb  Doric  pillars  of  tra- 
vertine, and  surmounted  by  a  second  colonnade  of  the 
Ionic  order.  In  front  of  these  porticoes,  at  the  interco- 
lumniations,  were  ranged  a  number  of  statues  on  lofty 
pedestals,  each  with  its  inscription.  I  only  remember 
that  there  was  a  statue  to  Rufus,  to  Sallust,  to  Pansa, 
to  Scaurus,  to-Gellianus,  in  short  to  all  the  illustrious 
Pompeians.  The  pavement  of  this  square  was  of 
marble. 

a  Here,"  said  Marcus,  as  he  wiped  away  the  sweat 
that  was  bursting  from  every  pore  of  his  ruby  face, 
while  he  stopped  to  recover  his  breath,  "  here  is  the 
Civil  Forum."  I  gazed  around  me  absolutely  stupefied 
with  wonder  and  admiration.  My  companion  enjoyed 
my  surprise  ;  and  drawing  me  farther  into  the  Forum, 
he  seized  me  by  the  shoulders  and  suddenly  whirling 
me  about,  I  at  once  stood  before  what  then  seemed  to 
me  the  masterpiece  of  beauty  and  of  human  art.  It 
was  the  temple  that  formed  the  whole  of  one  of  the 
smaller  extremities  of  the  forum,  leaving  only  a  passage 
on  each  side  for  egress  and  ingress. 

"  There,"  said  my  conductor,  puffing  out  his  words 
and  his  breath  together,  as  he  gazed  with  evident  ad- 
miration upon  the  edifice ;  "  that  is  the  temple  of  Ju- 


14  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

piter,  and  in  that  temple  is  contained  the  public  treas- 
ury. Let  us  examine  it  more  closely." 

So  saying,  in  his  zeal  he  seized  me  by  the  border  of 
my  toga,  and  fairly  dragged  me  towards  the  temple. 
We  approached  a  flight  of  magnificent  steps,  on  each 
side  of  which  were  ranged  colossal  statues,  whose 
gigantic  size  and  form  seemed  to  excite  an  involuntary 
fear.  In  the  midst  was  seen  the  altar  elegantly  carved — 
a  vestibule  with  six  columns  of  the  Corinthian  order  and 
a  covered  cella  with  two  wings,  each  of  which  was  sus- 
tained by  eight  Ionic  columns.  At  the  extremity  there 
were  three  small  chambers,  strongly  grated  with  iron 
bars,  serving  at  once  as  the  deposit  of  the  public 
money  and  documents,  and  as  the  sub-base  to  statues 
placed  upon  them,  in  the  centre  of  which,  and  above 
all,  rose  the  lofty  and  kingly  head  of  father  Jupiter. 
The  effect  of  this  temple  was  in  the  highest  degree 
imposing  and  majestic. 

"  Come,"  said  Marcus,  "  let  us  breathe  a  little  here," 
as  he  seated  himself  upon  the  lowest  step  of  the  temple. 
Taking  my  place  beside  him,  he  began  to  lament  that 
he  had  eaten  so  little  this  morning. 

"  I  foresee,"  said  he,  "  that  we  shall  suffer ;  and  I 
think  that  a  couple  of  chickens  with  about  a  dozen  of 
eggs,  would  help  us  better  to  sustain  this  toil  of  pleas- 
ure. What  say  you,  Lucius  ?  We  can  easily  pass  the 
temple  of  Isis  on  our  way  to  the  amphitheatre ;  and  I 
will  engage  to  give  you  a  draught  of  the  wine  of  Isis, 
as  I  call  it — the  true  Falernian." 

I  did  not  dare  to  object  outright,  yet  I  ventured 
gently  to  suggest  a  fear  that  we  might  arrive  too  late 
to  see  the  commencement  of  the  games,  or  to  secure  a 
seat. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  15 

*'  Never  fear,  never  fear,  boy ;  /  cannot  arrive  too 
!ate  for  a  good  seat ;  and  for  the  games,  if  they  are  no 
better  than  the  last,  there  will  be  little  lost ;  such  a 
shabby  set  of  gladiators,  such  tame  wild  beasts — such 
amiable  lions  and  gentle  tigers,  were  never  before  ex- 
hibited in  Pompeii." 

"  Shall  we  have  contests  with  wild  beasts  too,  to- 
day 1 " 

"  Yes !  a  little  of  every  thing,  in  honor  of  the  Em- 
peror ;  the  whole  to  conclude  with  the  slaughter  of 
some  Christians,  unless  they  recant,  which  Jupiter 
forbid  ! " 

I  blush  now  to  say,  that  to  this  sentiment  I  echoed 
amen.  I  felt  exceedingly  impatient  to  have  him  re- 
sume his  walk ;  but  he  seemed  in  no  such  haste. 
Quietly  stretching  out  his  legs,  he  began  to  explain  to 
me  the  different  buildings  we  saw  about  the  forum. 

"  Observe,"  said  he,  "  in  the  first  place,  at  our  right, 
that  long,  low  range,  whose  narrow  doors  are  barred 
with  iron.  They  are  our  prisons.  The  vast  quanti- 
ties of  cloths  and  stuffs  for  sale  yonder,  speak  for 
themselves.  The  cavities  or  vases  that  you  next  see 
yonder,  are  the  standard  public  measures.  They  have 
all  been  proved  in  the  presence  of  magistrates,  whose 
names  are  inscribed  on  them,  to  contain  the  just  meas- 
ure. You  next  observe  a  handsome  temple.  Examine 
it  well,  Lucius.  It  is  the  temple  of  Venus.8  Ah  ! 
that  Venus  and  Bacchus  have  more  than  one  temple 
in  Pompeii.  Our  late  earthquake  shook  the  goddess 
off  her  pedestal,  and  the  pedestal  too  out  of  its  place. 
That  was  a  sad  business  that  earthquake.  See  how  it 
has  disjointed  the  steps  of  the  temple." 


16  TALE  OF  POMPEII 

I  proposed  approaching  it,  in  the  hope  that  if  once 
fairly  started,  my  good-humored,  garrulous  companion 
would  continue  on  his  route.  No  such  thing.  Stop- 
ping before  the  beautiful  temple  he  had  been  last 
observing,  he  made  me  remark  the  masterly  statues  of 
Venus  and  her  son  Hermaphrodite,  with  the  ears  of  a 
Faun. 

"  No  one  understands  the  fine  arts  like  a  priest  after 
all,"  he  ejaculated.  "  Yet  the  paintings  of  these 
priests  of  Venus  are  but  beggarly  things.  They  boast 
greatly  of  a  very  common-place  painting  they  have  in 
a  secret  chamber  of  that  temple,  of  a  young  Bacchus 
sleeping  to  the  sound  of  the  lyre  of  Silenus.  The 
truth  is,  we  priests  of  Isis  may  be  said  to  be  priests  both 
of  Venus  and  of  Bacchus ;  therefore  we  are  just  twice 
as  good  judges  of  excellence  as  the  priests  of  either  of 
those  divinities,  for  we  are  filled  with  the  inspiration  of 
both." 

"  And  what  is  that  vast  quadrilateral  building  next 
beyond,"  I  asked,  edging  along  at  the  same  time. 

"  No  wonder,"  replied  Marcus,  observing  my  action, 
"  that  you  are  so  desirous  to  pass  this  temple  in  safety. 
But  you  rleed  not  hope  that  you  will  always  escape 
Venus  with  impunity." 

"  I  shall  trust  to  my  head  to  take  care  of  my  heart," 
said  I  laughing,  but  still  edging  on. 

"  Here,"  said  he,  stopping  before  the  building  con- 
cerning which  I  had  just  been  inquiring  of  him,  "  here 
is  our  Basilica,9  our  court  of  justice." 

In  front  of  the  tribunal,  which  was  elevated  about 
seven  feet,  he  made  me  observe  a  beautiful  equestrian 
statue  of  bronze,  gilt.  "  Those  three  large  rooms," 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  17 

said  he,  "  near  the  entrance,  with  each  an  elevated 
seat,  are  the  places  where  inferior  causes  are  tried  ; 
but  here,"  marching,  as  he  spoke,  towards  the  tribune 
which  was  deserted  then,  and  showing  little  openings 
in  the  pavement,  "  here  is  the  prisoner's  place,  in  the 
apartment  below  into  which  these  openings  lead.  There 
he  can  be  addressed  and  be  heard  by  his  judges,  without 
being  brought  from  his  prison."  The  porticoes  at  the 
sides  of  the  basilica  were  adorned  with  marble  statues 
and  Hermes  of  bronze. 

I  succeeded,  however,  at  length,  in  extricating  my- 
self from  the  basilica,  and  was  instantly  carried  oppo- 
site to  the  edifice  of  Eumachia,  which  consisted  of  a 
Chalcidicum,10  a  Crypt,  and  the  Portico.  The  Chal- 
cidicum  presented  on  its  architrave  an  inscription, 
which  in  my  impatience  I  resolved  never  to  read.11 
Passing  therefore  by  a  large  door  from  this  vestibule, 
we  entered  the  interior  porticoes.  They  were  formed 
of  forty-eight  columns  of  Parian  marble,  of  exquisite 
workmanship,  surrounding  a  large  court ;  at  the  bot- 
tom of  which  in  a  niche,  stood  a  charming  statue  of 
Concord.  In  the  Crypt  stood  the  beautiful  statue  of 
the  priestess  Eumachia,12  raised  to  her  by  the  washer- 
women, for  whom  at  her  own  expense  she  had  built  the 
Crypt. 

"  Now  at  least,"  thought  I,  "  I  have  seen  and  heard 
all  that  is  to  be  seen  or  heard."  But  my  good  con- 
ductor began  to  return  down  the  forum,  to  explain  to 
me  the  object  of  the  different  buildings  on  that  side. 
Finding  me  however  resolved  not  to  stir  a  digit  back, 
he  quietly  took  his  stand  by  my  side,  and  proceeded. 
2* 


18  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

"  This  next  little  building,"  said  he,  "  is  the  temple 
of  Romulus.  The  semicircular  space  beyond,  adorn- 
ed with  seats,  niches,  and  statues,  with  an  altar  in  the 
midst,  is  the  place  where  the  Decurions  hold  their  pub- 
lic meetings ;  and  the  noble  building  beyond  is  the 
temple  of  Augustus  or  the  Pantheon.13  If  you  would 
but  go  there  you  might  judge  of  the  effect  of  the  new 
plan  for  the  application  of  glass  to  windows.*  It  is 

*  Some  critics  may  find  fault  with  the  mention  of  glass  window 
panes.  To  their  theories  and  creeds  upon  the  subject^  I  can  only 
oppose  the  simple  fact,  that  they  have  actually  been  found  there, 
as  described.  A  specimen  of  the  glass  is  now  in  (he  possession  of 
the  author.  It  is  thick,  coarse,  and  imperfect ;  distorting  the  objects 
seen  through  it,  yet  for  the  admission  of  Hght,  as  good  as  any. 
This  discovery,  so  long  boasted  as  of  modern  origin,  was  for  a 
time  a  sad  blow  to  the  long  cherished  opinions  of  some  of 
the  antiquarians,  till,  in  a  happy  moment,  one  of  them  conceiv- 
ed the  idea  that  it  must  have  been  made  and  deposited  there 
by  some  modern  rogue,  for  the  express  purpose  of  puzzling 
them.  This  luminous  thought  is  well  capable  of  being  improved  ; 
and  perhaps  in  time  it  will  be  discovered  that  the  whole  city  is  a 
modern  toy,  buried  by  some  laughter-loving  wag  for  the  purpose 
of  exciting  the  curiosity  of  Christendom.  For  the  rest',  I  shall 
only  observe,  that  as  in  the  Museo  Borbonico  at  Naples  there  are 
hundreds  of  glass  bottles,  entirely  resembling  the  common  Flor- 
ence flask,  and  whose  antiquity  is  alike  unquestioned  and  unques- 
tionable, crushed,  like  lead,  out  of  form  by  the  superincumbent 
weight  of  the  matter  that  buried  them,  and  evidently  caused  by 
that  matter  having  previously  heated  them  to  nearly  the  point  of 
fusion ;  and  moreover,  as  innumerable  vessels  and  ornaments  of 
glass  have  been  found  in  the  various  houses,  taking  all  this  into 
consideration,  I  would  observe,  that  glass  being|  once  known, 
the  improbability  of  its  not  having  been  thought  of  for  so  obvious 
a  purpose  as  windows,  seems  so  much  greater  to  my  [mind  than 
is  the  probability  of  the  solution  offered  by  these  antiquarians, 
that,  with  all  due  deference  to  their  opinions,  I  cannot  but  differ 
from  them. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  19 

indeed  fine.  I  will  show  you  this  building  when  you 
are  in  less  haste  than  you  now  seem." 

"  My  good  friend,"  said  I,  "  I  would  not  lose  one 
moment  at  the  amphitheatre,  to  be  made  Pontifex  Max- 
imus  ;  no  !  not  even  to  be  deified  myself." 

"  Enough  said,  my  young  friend,"  replied  he ;  and 
turning  into  the  Appian  Way,  opposite  nearly  to  the 
basilica,  we  hurried  on.  The  crowd  had  evidently 
diminished  ;  and  the  diminution  augured  no  good  to  my 
wish  to  witness  the  commencement  of  the  show. 
Turning  again  to  the  right,  we  soon  came  to  another 
triangular  forum,  called  the  Forum  Nundinarum.  My 
guide  cast  longing  eyes  at  the  temple  of  Hercules 
and  Neptune,  that  stands  upon  this  forum  ;  but  seeing 
my  no  longer  disguised  impatience,  he  reluctantly  de- 
ferred for  the  present  his  wish  to  explain,  or  rather  his 
love  for  hearing  himself  talk,  contenting  himself  with 
merely  indicating  it  to  me,  aud  informing  me  that  here 
were  the  tragic  theatre,  the  Odeon,  and  the  quarters  of 
the  soldiers.  Leaving  this  forum  on  our  right,  a  few 
steps  brought  us  to  a  temple,  which  my  companion 
instantly  indicated  as  the  temple  of  Isis  ; 14  and  calling 
to  a  slave  who  stood  near,  "  Curio,"  said  he,  "  bring 
the  refreshments  I  ordered,  and  follow  us." 

The  obedient  slave  soon  appeared  with  a  basket  on 
his  arm,  and  we  proceeded  once  more  on  our  path. 

"  Observe,  Lucius,"  said  my  conductor,  who  seemed 
never  weary  of  commenting  upon  the  richness  and 
beauty  and  superiority  of  his  own  city,  "  observe  that 
in  our  short  walk  from  the  Civil  Forum  to  the  quarters 
of  the  soldiers  in  the  Forum  Nundinarum,  we  have 
passed  eight  temples,  a  basilica,  two  public  squares, 


20  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

the  magnificent  monument  of  Eumachia,  the  baths, 
two  theatres,  and  shops  most  sumptuous  and  number- 
less. In  that  short  space  are  more  than  eight  hundred 
and  thirty  columns,  of  every  material,  and  of  every  de- 
gree of  beauty ;  and  at  the  same  time  he  made  me- 
notice  an  advertisement  of  nine  hundred  shops  to  let 
by  a  votress  of  Isis.15 

Meantime  the  press  of  the  crowd  increased,  and  we 
at  length  found  ourselves  in  a  spacious  opening  or 
piazza,  which  served  as  a  circus  for  chariot  races  ;  and 
in  the  centre  of  which,  towered  the  huge  black  walls 
of  the  amphitheatre.  This  circus  was  now  thronged 
with  men  and  vehicles  of  every  kind.  There  was  heard 
the  cursing  of  men  in  every  language  and  tongue,  the 
yells  and  growls  of  the  beasts,  brought  up  for  the  day's 
sport,  and  which  stood  in  close  boxes  along  the  circus 
around  the  amphitheatre,  the  starting  and  snorting  of 
terrified  horses,  the  deep-baying  of  dogs,  the  shrill  ex- 
clamations of  women,  and  the  deep  steady  hum  of  that 
vast  multitude,  like  the  hoarse  voice  of  the  distant 
ocean. 

Marcus  seemed  well  known  and  respected.  Every 
one  strove  to  give  him  way,  and  we  walked  deliber- 
ately to  the  principal  entrance  of  the  amphitheatre, 
where  lictors  were  busily  employed,  by  dint  of  heavy 
blows  and  loud  words,  in  repressing  the  occasional 
attempts  of  the  crowd  to  force  their  way  in,  in  a  disor- 
derly manner.  Directly  opposite  this  entrance,  I  no- 
ticed a  triclinium  or  dining-couch.  I  inquired  the 
meaning  of  it.  "  There,"  replied  my  companion,  "the 
prisoners  condemned  to  death,  are  sumptuously  feasted, 
the  day  before  their  execution,  at  the  public  expense. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  21 

This  repast  is  called  free.  The  law  would  teach  its 
convicts  the  value  of  the  life  they  have  forfeited,  by 
holding  its  most  luxurious  indulgences  before  them, 
who  must  so  soon  be  deprived  of  it." 
»  "  Alas !  "  thought  I,  "  and  is  this  all  that  life  can  give, 
all  that  death  can  take  away  ?  Do  all  the  joys  that 
make  life  dear,  consist  in  gratifying  the  animal  appe- 
tites ?  What  then  is  life  when  age  has  palsied  or  sick- 
ness destroyed  them — when  pleasure  has  ceased  to 
please,  and  the  joys  of  the  past,  by  their  vivid  contrast, 
only  point  out  to  us  the  more  palpably  the  wreck  of 
the  present.  Alas  !  it  is  but  little  then  that  even  the 
public  executioner  can  take  away." 

Such  were  the  tenor  of  my  reflections  ;  bat  any 
reply  was  prevented  by  our  entering  at  that  moment 
the  amphitheatre. 


CHAPTER  III. 

PASSING  under  a  broad,  deep-vaulted  passage,  de- 
clining downward,  we  soon  entered  another  passage, 
which  intersecting  the  first  at  right  angles,  passed  en- 
tirely round  the  amphitheatre,  beneath  the  spectators, 
and  parallel  with  the  edge  of  the  arena.  Upon  the 
walls  of  this  passage,  were  numerous  inscriptions, 
scribbled  by  boys  or  idle  persons  with  charcoal  and 
paint.16  Steps  passing  up  from  this  passage,  all  around 
the  amphitheatre,  form  numerous  entrances  called  vom- 
itoria,  thus  preventing  the  confusion  and  toil  of  a  large 


22  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

crowd,  struggling  for  admittance  at  a  few  narrow 
doors.  Mounting  one  of  these  flights  of  steps,  we  soon 
emerged  into  the  crowded  amphitheatre.  My  com- 
panion presented  a  couple  of  tickets,  and  was  instantly 
shown  to  a  couple  of  seats,  whose  numbers,  painted" 
red,  corresponded  to  the  numbers  he  had  presented  on 
his  tickets.  The  space  to  be  occupied  by  each  one,  is 
designated  by  lines  drawn  upon  the  seats. 

The  Emperor  had  not  yet  arrived,  and  of  course  the 
games  were  not  begun ;  and  I  had  leisure  to  gape 
around  me,  and  to  satisfy  in  a  degree  the  first  cravings 
of  curiosity,  before  the  spectacles  should  commence, 
whose  overwhelming  interest  I  knew  would  swallow 
every  other  emotion.  The  amphitheatre  is  a  vast  ellip- 
tical building,  intended  to  contain  about  20,000  per- 
sons. The  arena  is  likewise  elliptical,  and  the  seats, 
which  are  of  stone  and  rise  one  behind  another  like  a 
flight  of  stairs,  have  the  back  part  of  each  step  or  seat 
scooped  out,  that  the  spectators  may  not  be  troubled 
by  the  feet  of  those  behind  them.  These  steps  are  of 
a  breadth  sufficient  to  allow  the  space  necessary  for 
this  double  object. 

The  people  meantime  were  amusing  themselves,  as 
is  common  with  the  crowd  before  the  commencement 
of  the  spectacle.  Some  were  yawning  upon  their  seats 
— others  conversed  soberly  with  those  next  them — 
others  again  were  greeting  their  friends,  whose  seats 
were  at  a  distance  from  their  own,  and  carrying  on  a 
conversation,  certainly  not  in  whispers,  across  the  seats. 
Some  whistled — some  sung — and  some  drummed  upon 
the  seats  with  their  feet  and  fingers.  Others,  too  dis- 
tant from  their  friends  to  excite  their  attention,  were 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  23 

amusing  themselves  by  throwing  figs  or  olives  across 
at  them — while  others  sat  wrapped  in  their  own  deep 
meditations,  and  apparently  so  completely  absorbed,  as 
to  be  unconscious  of  the  presence  of  any  other  being 
-than  themselves. 

My  companion,  knowing  my  rustic  habits,  and  con- 
sequent ignorance  of  every  thing  about  me,  was  kind 
enough  to  explain. 

"  The  first  seat  with  its  wall  projecting  over  the 
arena,  covered  with  beautiful  paintings,"  said  he,  "  is 
the  podium.  There  sit  the  senators,  the  Vestals,  and 
the  foreign  ambassadors  ;  and  yonder  pavilion  which 
rises  from  it,  is  the  Emperor's  throne.  The  next  few 
rows,  so  comfortably  cushioned,  are  the  seats  of  the 
knights  ;  and  there,  as  soon  as  Caius  Cennius  comes, 
who  is  an  old  friend  both  of  your  father  and  myself,  we 
will  contrive  to  get  a  seat.  The  division  of  seats  that  we 
now  occupy  is  called  the  popularia ;  while  that  at  the 
top  of  all,  where  you  hear  such  an  incessant  chattering, 
is  the  place  for  women,  who,  as  you  see,  have  not  been 
backward  about  filling  it." 

Here  Marcus  suddenly  broke  off  in  the  midst  of  his 
explanations  ;  and  turning  towards  him  to  learn  the 
cause,  I  saw  him  very  busy  in  making  signs  to  a  fine 
venerable  looking  old  knight,  who  had  just  entered. 

"  Come,  Lucius,"  said  he  to  me,  "  yonder  is  Cen- 
nius, who  is  making  signs  to  us  to  go  down  to  him. 
Follow  me." 

So  saying,  he  instantly  left  his  seat,  and  partly  by 
elbowing  the  crowd  with  a  good  will,  partly  from  the 
personal  respect  in  which  he  seemed  to  be  held,  we 
were  soon  able  to  reach  old  Cennius,  to  whom,  and  to 


24  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

his  son  Julius,  Marcus  introduced. me.  The  good  old 
man  was  desirous  of  showing  me  every  attention,  and 
accordingly  placed  me  with  himself  on  the  first  row  of 
the  knights'  seats,  and  next  to  the  podium.  Our  seat 
was  on  the  side  of  the  arena  opposite  to  the  Emperor's 
tribune.  But  directly  before  me  was  a  sight  that  at- 
tracted most  strongly  my  attention  ;  and  whispering  to 
Marcus,  in  a  low  voice  lest  they  should  hear  me,  I 
asked  who  were  the  ladies  with  the  long,  white,  purple- 
bordered  robes,  and  whose  heads  were  adorned  with 
fillets  and  ribbons. 

Marcus  instantly  burst  into  one  of  his  loud  and 
merry  laughs. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  he,  "  put  that  question  properly,  Lu- 
cius, and  you  will  ask,  who  is  she  ?  By  Bacchus,  I  can 
always  read  a  young  man's  question  in  his  eye." 

I  felt  myself  blush  a  little,  for  in  truth  my  question 
had  reference  but  to  one,  whose  large,  soft,  black  eye 
looked  out  under  her  high,  white  brow,  across  which  a 
single  lock  of  black  hair  was  seen  just  escaping  from 
under  her  head-dress.  Her  complexion  was  pale,  and 
the  whole  expression  of  her  countenance  serious  and 
calm ;  while  her  soft,  flute-like  voice,  as  she  conversed 
with  her  companions,  seemed  to  me  to  realize  one  of 
my  own  dreams.  Assuming,  however,  his  own  tone, 
"  Well  then,"  I  said,  "  who  is  she  ?  " 

"  One,  Lucius,  that  you  must  not  make  love  to,  not- 
withstanding her  pretty  face.  That  is  Lucilla,  a  Ves- 
tal, as  are  also  her  companions.  So,  beware  of  eyes 
however  bright,  that  Venus  must  not  inspire." 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  warning,"  said  I ;  "  I  shall 
need  it,  and  all  the  other  armor  you  can  give  me,  if  I 


. 

TALE  OF  POMPEII.  25 

should  meet  those  glances  often.  And  who  is  the 
pretty  Vestal  next  her  ?  " 

"  Pretty  !  Canuleia  pretty  !  Now  we  must  change  that 
rustic  taste  of  yours.  Look  at  those  white  eye-brows, 
and  light  hair,  over  a  pair  of  fine,  large,  black  eyes, 
and  lament  with  me  that  their  expression  and  beauty 
should  be  ruined,  only  for  want  of  black  hair.  Why,  it 
is  not  in  good  taste.  It  is  like  a  noble  foundation  of 
solid  marble  and  Doric  pillars,  to  support  a  light  fan- 
tastic pavilion  of  wrought  ivory." 

"  But  the  cheeks,  my  good  sir,  looking  like  a  ripe 
peach,  they  surely  were  never  made  to  wither  in  ever- 
lasting virginity  like  a  dried-up  berry.  Look  at  her. 
There  is  surely  more  of  Venus  than  of  Vesta  in  that 
large,  well-opened  eye.  But  the  other  Vestal,  Lucilla — 
there  is  a  countenance  for  a  Juno." 

"  Conclamatum  est  ,*  17  by  Venus,"  exclaimed  the 
laughing  priest.  "  But  speak  lower  if  you  please,  for 
Cennius  may  not  like " 

How  he  finished  his  sentence  I  know  not ;  for  at 
that  moment  the  fair  Lucilla,  whether  she  had  heard 
any  portion  of  our  remarks,  or  whether  she  only  desired 
to  survey  the  assembly,  turned  round,  and  glancing 
over  the  whole  of  that  great  multitude,  ere  she  turned 
back  again,  rested  for  a  moment  her  large,  deep  eye 
full  upon  me,  as  I  thought,  with  a  slight  expression  of 
curiosity. 

"  Ah  !  "  thought  I,  "  if  she  were  not  a  Vestal !  " 

At  this  moment  a  trumpet  sounded.  In  an  instant 
the  vast,  dark  mass  of  living  bodies,  rose  as  by  one 
impulse.  A  man  entered,  bearing  fire 18  in  a  little  cen- 

*  Equivalent  to  saying,  "  It  is  all  over  with  you."    See  note  17. 
3 


26  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

ser,  and  was  followed  by  the  Emperor  himself.  On  his 
head  was  a  brilliant  crown,  and  on  his  shoulders  a 
magnificent  triumphal  robe.19  He  was  accompanied 
by  few  attendants.  The  air  was  instantly  rent  with  the 
acclamations  that  burst  at  once  from  twenty  thousand 
tongues.  The  Emperor  ascended  the  tribune  ;  and  as 
he  bowed  slightly  and  rapidly  on  each  side,  the  sun, 
flashing  upon  his  glittering  crown  and  robes,  gave  him 
the  appearance  of  a  divinity  surrounded  by  his  glory. 
The  sound  of  voices  ceased  with  the  acclamations 
upon  the  entrance  of  the  Emperor;  and  the  noise  of 
that  vast  multitude,  rising  and  sinking  again  to  their 
places,  sounded  like  the  rush  of  a  mighty  wind.  A 
silence  succeeded,  almost  appalling  from  the  contrast 
of  its  intensity  with  the  shouts  and  uproar  that  a  mo- 
ment before  rung  through  the  place.  Deep  expecta- 
tion seemed  to  hold  every  breath  suspended. 

Suddenly  on  a  signal  from  the  Emperor  a  trumpet 
again  sounded.  A  door,  communicating  with  the  arena, 
was  thrown  open,  and  the  gladiators  entered  in  pairs, 
armed  with  wooden  swords.  Slowly  they  marched  along 
the  edge  of  the  arena,  till  they  had  compassed  the 
whole  circuit  of  the  amphitheatre.  Then,  at  a  second 
signal,  they  suddenly  separated  into  two  lines,  which 
facing  each  other,  commenced  a  sort  of  mock  combat 
with  their  wooden  swords.  This  combat  had  lasted 
but  a  short  time,  when  the  trumpet  again  sounded,  and 
the  combatants  instantly  separated.  Laying  aside  their 
wooden  swords,  they  now  carefully  armed  themselves 
with  the  different  weapons  with  which  they  were  about 
to  contend  in  a  more  deadly  combat.  Gradually,  as 
their  arming  was  completed,  they  left  the  arena,  with 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  27 

the  exception  of  two,  who  were  doomed  first  to  feast 
the  eyes  of  the  multitude. 

They  stood  at  some  distance  from  each  other,  their 
hands  resting  on  their  drawn  swords,  and  with  stern 
composure  awaiting  the  signal  to  commence.  They 
had  not  long  to  wait.  Instantly  facing  each  other,  and 
settling  themselves  into  the  position  for  combat,  it 
began.  At  first,  to  judge  from  the  slowness  and  delib- 
eration of  their  movements,  it  seemed  to  be  any  thing 
but  a  mortal  strife.  But  gradually  the  strokes  fell 
thicker  and  faster.  Fire  flashed,  as  the  deadly  blades 
crossed  each  other.  The  spectators  sat  breathless  with 
intense  interest,  and  leaning  eagerly  forward.  Not  a 
sound  or  a  whisper  was  heard.  It  seemed  as  if  the 
world's  fate  depended  upon  the  issue  of  the  combat. 
It  was  after  a  long  time  decided.  One  was  slightly 
wounded  in  the  arm. 

The  combat*  ceased.  The  deep  silence  that  had 
hitherto  pervaded  the  assembly  was  instantly  bro- 
ken by  thousands  of  voices  shouting  tumultuously, 
"  He  has  it — he  has  it !  "*  The  wounded  man  turned 
towards  the  Emperor,  and  lowered  his  arms.  The  con- 
queror, on  whose  sweating  brow  not  an  emotion  of  ex- 
ultation was  perceptible,  turned,  and  slowly  and  care- 
fully sought  the  will  of  the  people  with  regard  to  the 
wounded  man.  The  contest  had  been  long  and  ani- 
mated, and  both  parties  had  fought  well.  The  people 
were  satisfied,  and  the  thumbs  were  generally  turned 
down.  The  conqueror  read  the  will  of  the  people  with 
the  same  stern  composure  which  had  marked  his  de- 
meanor throughout,  and  sheathing  his  sword,  he  turn- 

*  "  Hoc  habet— habet !  " 


28  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

ed  and  left  the  arena.  Assistants  came  forward,  and 
while  some  busied  themselves  in  aiding  the  wounded 
man,  others  scraped  away  the  bloody  sand,  covering 
the  place  with  fresh,  that  it  might  not  cause  the  next 
combatants  to  slip.  They  seemed  to  take  an  excessive 
degree  of  pains  for  this  object,  raking  it  over  with  the 
utmost  care,  and  again  and  again  examining  and  level- 
ling the  arena  in  different  places,  until,  as  if  at  length 
satisfied,  they  retired. 

There  was  an  interval  of  a  few  minutes,  during 
which  an  universal  buzz  of  conversation  was  going 
actively  on  throughout  the  amphitheatre.  Some  were 
making  bets  upon  the  next  combatants  ;  others  were 
wrangling  about  those  lost  or  won — others  were  specu- 
lating on  the  weather — some  were  detailing  domestic 
misfortunes  or  evil  omens,  and  some  were  yawning 
listlessly  till  the  next  combat  should  commence. 

The  signal  was  soon  given.  Conversation  was  in- 
stantly broken  off,  and  the  immense,  dark,  living  mass 
was  seen  suddenly  sinking  to  the  seats,  as  if  vanish- 
ing into  the  earth.  Presently  a  door  was  thrown  open, 
and  an  instant  after  a  gladiator  of  the  order  called  Mir- 
millones,  bounded  into  the  arena  with  all  the  agility  of  a 
deer.  He  was  armed  like  a  Gaul,  with  a  buckler  on  his 
left  arm,  in  the  centre  of  which  was  represented  a  fish. 
In  his  right  hand,  he  carried  a  crooked  sword  or  cutlass. 
He  was  closely  followed  by  another,  a  Retiarius,  of  equal 
agility,  armed  with  a  trident  in  his  left  hand,  and  a 
large  net  in  his  right.  Scarcely  was  he  well  out  upon 
the  arena,  ere  seizing,  as  he  thought,  a  favorable  op- 
portunity, he  hurled  his  net  at  his  flying  foe.  But  the 
nimble  Gaul  was  prepared  ;  and  darting  with  incredU 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  29 

ble  swiftness  off  his  course,  the  net  fell  empty  upon  the 
sand.  It  was  now  the  Thracian's  turn  to  fly,  which 
he  hastily  did,  dragging  the  net  after  him,  and  gradu- 
ually  working  it  up  into  his  hand  again.  This  the  Mir- 
millo  tried  eagerly  to  prevent,  and  to  slay  his  antago- 
nist before  he  could  regain  his  net.  But  in  this  he 
was  constantly  foiled  by  the  wary  Thracian,  who  to  the 
most  thorough  coolness  and  indifference,  joined  the 
most  surprising  activity  ;  and  in  spite  of  all  the  efforts 
of  his  opponent,  he  succeeded  in  regaining  his  net  after 
a  hot  pursuit,  and  in  preparing  it  for  another  cast.  It 
became  necessary  now  for  the  Gaul  again  to  fly,  which 
he  did,  and  I  think  with  as  much  celerity  and  address 
as  before  ;  but  unfortunately,  in  attempting  to  turn 
short  off  his  course,  his  foot  accidentally  slipped  back. 
A  precious  moment  was  lost.  It  was  instantly  seized 
by  the  dexterous  Thracian,  and  again  his  net  was  seen 
darting  from  his  hand. 

I  said  that  I  thought  that  the  slip  of  the  Gaul's  foot 
was  an  accident,  and  by  no  means  his  fault.  But  the 
people  thought  otherwise.  The  net  fell  not  this  time  as 
before.  So  true  was  the  eye,  and  so  practised  the 
hand  of  the  Thracian,  that  its  large  open  mouth  fell 
directly  over  the  head  of  the  Mirmillo;  while  the 
Retiarius,  by  a  rapid  motion  suddenly  drew  it  together, 
at  the  same  time  repeating  the  stale  jest,  "  Why  do  you 
fly  me,  oh  Gaul  1  I  would  only  catch  your  fish."  *  As 
he  uttered  this,  he  grasped  his  trident  in  his  right  hand, 
and  then,  secure  of  his  captive,  he  paused  and  looked 
round  the  amphitheatre.  But  the  unfortunate  slip  of 
his  foot,  as  I  before  stated,  had  displeased  the  people, 


Non  te,  piscem  peto.    Quid  me  fugis,  Galle  ? 
3* 


30  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

who  had  promised  themselves  a  long  amusement  from 
the  fight ;  and  wherever  the  eyes  of  the  Thracian  were 
directed,  the  thumbs  of  the  people  were  turned  up. 
Slowly  the  cool  eye  of  the  victorious  gladiator  regarded 
the  will  of  the  assembly,  his  gaze  gradually  wandering 
from  the  farthest  popularia  to  the  podium,  where  it 
rested  at  last  upon  the  tribune  of  the  Emperor.  This 
deliberateness  of  the  gladiator  displeased  the  Emperor, 
and  he  half  rose  from  his  seat,  with  a  gesture  of  impa- 
tience, at  the  same  time  hastily  elevating  both  thumbs. 
Meantime,  the  Gaul  stood  captive  in  the  net,  the 
cords  of  which  his  conqueror  held  in  his  left  hand, 
much  as  if  it  were  the  halter  of  a  beast.  The  captive 
just  glanced  around,  and  his  mouth  curved  in  a  con- 
temptuous smile,  as  he  saw  the  determination  of  the 
people  with  regard  to  him  ;  but  his  countenance  un- 
derwent no  other  change.  But  when  he  saw  the  ac- 
tion of  the  Emperor,  he  drew  himself  proudly  up  to  his 
full  height,  turning  at  the  same  time  his  well-expand- 
ed chest  full  to  his  foe.  The  action  was  the  work  of 
a  moment.  The  glittering  points  of  the  trident  were 
drawn  suddenly,  back,  trembled  for  an  instant,  and 
then  darted  into  the  unshrinking  body  of  the  Gaul,  who 
continued  erect  for  a  moment,  then,  as  the  muscles  re- 
laxed, fell  heavily  to  the  earth.  And  as  the  instrument, 
on  account  of  its  barbed  points,  was  withdrawn  with 
difficulty,  the  Retiarius  planted  his  foot  upon  the  quiv- 
ering body,  and  seizing  the  haft  with  both  hands,  for- 
cibly dragged  it  out.  The  blood  and  bowels  of  the 
unfortunate  victim  followed  the  instiument ;  and  some 
of  the  latter  adhering  to  the  barbs,  were  calmly  twisted 
off  by  the  deliberate  Thracian,  who  then  proceeded  to 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  31 

free  his  net  from  the  still  gasping  gladiator,  from  whose 
firm-set  lips  not  a  groan  had  escaped.  A  hook  was 
then  attached  to  his  heel,  and  he  was  dragged  by  it  oft' 
the  arena  to  the  spotiarium,  the  body  painting  red,  in 
its  passage,  the  gully  that  it  scraped  in  the  sand.  An 
assistant  followed  with  an  instrument  with  which  he 
raked  the  dry  sand  over  the  blood,  and  the  arena  was 
again  clear. 

For  my  own  part,  at  this  bloody  spectacle,  I  could 
not  avoid  an  involuntary  groan  of  horror,  which  accord- 
ed better  with  my  rustic  habits,  than  with  the  place. 
But  it  caught  the  ear  of  the  fair  Vestal,  who  instantly 
turned  her  deep,  full  eye  upon  my  face,  with  an  expres- 
sion that  I  shall  never  forget.  It  spoke  volumes — 'hor- 
ror at  the  bloody  scenes  we  had  just  witnessed — won- 
der that  any  other  than  herself  could  entertain  such 
feelings,  and,  pardon  the  vanity  of  the  remark,  as 
I  thought,  a  smile  of  approbation,  that  sent  my  blood 
boiling  through  every  vein  in  my  body. 

But  my  delight  was  soon  interrupted  by  the  renewal 
of  the  games,  between  a  pair  of  DimachaBri,  who 
fought  each  with  two  swords,  one  in  each  hand,  and 
who  gave  evidence  of  the  most  surprising  address. 
These  two  gladiators  were  said  to  possess  the  rare 
faculty  of  not  winking  ;  and  this,  it  was  thought,  ren- 
dered them  nearly  invulnerable  with  single  swords. 
As  it  was,  however,  one  of  them  was  slightly  scratched 
after  a  very  long  contest,  and  they  were  dismissed  with 
honor.  Next  came  two  Laquearii,  who  were  armed 
each  with  a  noose  and  a  sword,  with  which  each  endeav- 
oured to  entangle  and  to  slay  his  antagonist.  This  con- 
test resembled  greatly  that  between  the  Mirmillo  and 


32  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

Retiarius.  But  it  lasted  much  longer  ;  and  the  efforts 
of  the  two  gladiators  to  entangle  each  other,  and  to 
avoid  each  other's  noose,  kept  the  whole  amphitheatre 
in  an  incessant  roar  of  laughter.  This  was  well  for 
the  poor  combatants ;  for  when  at  length  one  was 
fairly  noosed,  the  good  humor  of  the  people  spared  the 
victim  that  had  entertained  them  so  well.  But  why 
should  I  enumerate  these  different  contests  1  Suffice  it 
to  say,  that  at  length  the  Emperor  rose  to  retire  for 
awhile,  and  the  games  of  course  were  suspended  till 
his  return. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IN  an  instant  all  was  confusion  and  bustle.  Some 
were  crowding  and  fighting  their  way  to  the  vomitoria 
in  order  to  retire  and  refresh  themselves  in  the  interim 
between  the  games, — others  were  pressing  forward  to 
secure  the  seats  of  those  who  were  leaving  the  amphi- 
theatre,— others  stood  gazing  with  vacant  and  listless 
eye. upon  the  arena,  their  minds  obviously  far  absent 
from  their  bodies.  Some  were  paying  lost  bets,  ming- 
ling the  business  with  execrations  upon  their  own  ill 
luck,  or  the  gladiator's  want  of  skill, — some  were  laugh- 
ing,— some  were  dreaming, — and  some  were  eating  ; 
nor  was  it  long  before  my  jolly  companion  desired  to 
know  if  my  appetite  were  as  good  as  his  own. 

"  Did  I  not  well,  my  young  friend  ?  "  he  began,  as 
after  much  bawling  he  was  able  to  get  the  slave  suffi- 
ciently near  to  obtain  possession  of  the  much  desired 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  33 

basket.  "  Trust  to  the  providence  of  your  true  priest 
of  Isis,  if  you  wish  to  live  well,  which,  I  take  it,  means 
to  eat  eggs  and  chickens.  Now  some  of  your  whining, 
beggarly,  barefooted,  bald-headed  priests,  eat  lentils 
and  drink  cold  water.  But  our  Pompeian  Tsis  is  a 
jolly  goddess  after  all,  and  likes  a  warm  religion  and  a 
full  belly." 

"  But  how  is  it,"  I  asked,  "  that  the  priests  of  Isis, 
who  are  enjoined  perpetual  chastity,  and  mortification, 
and  mendicity,  live  so  freely,  that  one  would  swear  that 
Venus,  Bacchus,  and  Isis,  were  brother  and  sisters  ?  " 

"  Trigemini,"  replied  the  laughing  priest.  "  Do  you 
not.  know  the  motto  of  our  goddess,  '  I  am  all  that  has 
been,  and  shall  be,  and  none  among  mortals  has  hith- 
erto taken  off  my  veil.  The  fruit  that  I  have  begotten 
is  the  sun.'  " 

"  Well,"  said  I,  not  understanding  the  application  of 
his  remark. 

"  Oh!  "  interrupted  Cennius,  laughing  ;  "our  friend 
Marcus  has  peeped  under  the  veil ;  and  satisfied  with 
a  portion  of  the  bliss  of  immortality,  he  embraces  what 
is,  leaving  what  have  been  and  shall  be,  to  jealous  hus- 
bands and  impatient  lovers.  I  greatly  doubt,  however, 
if  he  have  always  begotten  the  sun." 

"I  have  heard,"  I  said,  "  that  offerings,  and  pres- 
ents, and  prayers  are  constantly  brought  to  the  temple 
of  Isis,  by  childless  wives  and  heirless  old  men." 

"  Ay,  ay,"  returned  the  chuckling  old  knight ;  "  and 
so  great  is  our  friend's  influence  with  his  palron  god- 
dess, that  his  prayers  seldom  fail  to  be  answered. 
There  was  old  Pacuvius  now,  two  years  ago  married 
young  Mar'tia,  a  fine,  lively,  buxom  wench  of  sixteen ; 


34  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

and  after  six  months'  experience  of  hope  deferred — and 
six  months  is  something,  young  man,  when  one  gets  to 
the  age  of  seventy-five,  he  brought  her  in  despair  to 
the  goddess  Isis.  By  Hermes,  never  was  prayer  more 
expeditiously  answered.  For  lo !  in  exactly  nine 
months  from  the  time  of  her  visit,  a  fine,  fat  bouncing 
boy  was  brought  into  the  world,  the  very  image  of 
our  worthy  Marcus  here,  and  weighing  even  at  his 
birth,  as  much  as  the  shrivelled  anatomy  of  his  good 
father.  There  is  a  miracle,  by  Jupiter,  and  not  a  soli- 
tary one  either  !  Isis  is  a  generous  goddess,  and  half 
the  husbands  of  Pompeii  have  at  different  times  had 
cause  to  be  grateful."  2° 

The  jolly  priest  attempted  to  reply  ;  but  apparently 
the  chicken's  leg  that  he  was  then  most  eagerly  dis- 
cussing, prevented  his  success  ;  and  discovering  after 
one  or  two  fruitless  attempts,  that  the  emission  of 
words  implied  also  the  emission  of  chicken,  he  con- 
tented himself  with  a  laugh  in  which  his  defence  died 
away. 

I  have  already  mentioned  having  been  introduced  to 
young  Cennius,  whose  fine,  manly,  but  rather  melan- 
choly cast  of  countenance,  interested  me  deeply  in  his 
favor.  He  had  listened  with  a  smile  to  our  conversa- 
tion, but  had  not  joined  in  it.  It  seemed  as  if  his  own 
grave  and  thoughtful  countenance  belonged  more  pro- 
perly to  more  years  than  he  had  numbered.  There 
was  an  expression  of  sedateness,  that  while  it  indicated 
thought,  indicated  also  that  which  is  too  often  apt  to 
accompany,  ov  rather  perhaps  to  cause,  its  early  devel- 
opement — suffering.  Turning  towards  his  father,  he 
inquired  in  a  remarkably  soft,  low  voice,  if  he  really 


TALE  OF  POMPEH.  35 

believed  that  the  Christians  would  be  brought  upon  the 
arena  as  reported  1 

"  Believe  it,  Julius,"  replied  the  old  knight ;  "  why 
should  I  doubt  it  ?  Do  they  not  well  merit  death  ?  " 

Happening  at  this  moment  to  cast  my  eyes  towards 
the  fair  Lucilla,  I  was  instantly  struck  with  her  man- 
ner. From  her  situation  immediately  before  us,  she 
could  readily  hear  our  conversation,  if  she  desired  ; 
and  now  her  beautiful  head,  without  being  turned  to- 
wards the  speaker,  was  slightly  thrown  back  ;  and  the 
fixed  expression  of  deep  attention,  that  I  could  easily 
read  in  her  full  eye,  indicated  a  strong  interest  in  the 
subject  of  Julius's  question. 

"  Deserve  death !  "•  interrupted  Marcus.  "  If  all  coun- 
tries made  as  liberal  contributions  to  the  dominions  of 
Pluto  as  our  wise  Emperor  does,  I  can  only  say,  that  a 
man  of  good  parts,  your  good,  useful,  practical  man, 
would  stand  a  chance  for  promotion  either  above  or 
below  ;  for  even  Pluto  could  not  govern  such  a  rascally 
mob  as  is  daily  ushered  into  his  realms,  without  some 
additional  praitors  and  viceroys — and  the  ranks  of  the 
Emperor  here  are  getting  so  thin  from  his  liberal  trib- 
ute to  his  infernal  brother,  that  meritorious  men  may 
at  last  hope  to  be  distinguished,  instead  of  being  lost 
as  hitherto  in  the  crowd." 

An  expressive  "  hush,"  from  the  knight,  was  the 
only  reply  to  this  hazardous  jest,  which  had  not  even 
the  excuse  of  being  good  to  palliate  its  recklessness. 

"  But,"  again  asked  Julius,  "  why  should  these  poor 
men  perish  for  worshipping  a  different  deity  from  the 
rest  of  the  community  1  " 


. 
36  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

"  Why,"  replied  Marcus,  "  the  wiser  part  of  the 
community  worship  no  one  but  themselves  ;  and  if  this 
new-fangled  sect  would  only  be  content  with  believing 
nothing,  no  one  would  care  a  straw  about  them.  But 
they  not  only  believe  nothing  in  our  ancient  and 
faithful  gods,  an  aberration  of  intellect  that  they 
share  with  some  of  their  ancient  and  faithful  priests, 
but  they  believe  in  another ;  and  one,  which  if  the 
creed  prevail  must  knock  all  religion  on  the  head. 
And  since  our  religion  is  so  connected 'and  interwoven 
with  our  civil  establishments,  that  the  one  cannot  be 
subverted  without  destroying  the  other,  those  attempt- 
ing it  must  be  treated  as  traitors."  Then,  like  one 
satisfied  that  he  had  given  a  luminous  and  satisfactory 
statement  of  the  merits  of  the  case,  he  turned  again  to 
hisjaasket ;  and,  to  say  sooth,  old  Cennius  and  myself 
found  the  contents  of  the  subject  therein  contained, 
not  less  interesting  than  that  we  had  abandoned. 

The  return  of  the  Emperor,  and  the  renewal  of  the 
exhibition,  soon  interrupted  our  employment.  I  had 
remarked,  during  the  intermission,  some  men  busily 
employed  in  wheeling  opposite  to  the  tribune  of  the 
Emperor  a  large  and  closely  covered  frame.  When 
they  had  placed  it  to  their  satisfaction,  the  frame  was 
removed,  and  there  appeared  a  large,  majestic  statue  of 
father  Jupiter.  He  was  seated  on  an  ivory  throne, 
holding  in  his  left  hand  a  sceptre  and  in  his  right  a 
thunderbolt  with  an  eagle.  Around  his  brow  was  a 
garland  of  his  own  sacred  oak  leaves.  At  his  feet  was 
an  altar  decorated  with  flowers  and  green  leaves,  among 
which  those  of  the  oak  predominated.  A  fire  was 
burning  upon  the  altar. 

•f"  '    «:  i 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  37 

Upon  a  given  signal,  a  door  was  suddenly  thrown 
open,  and  there  appeared  a  long  and  brilliant  procession 
of  the  different  orders  of  priests,  headed  by  the  Flamen 
Dialis,  with  his  rich  purple  robe  and  conical  cap, 
attended  by  lictors.  No  sooner  had  he  entered,  than 
all  the  spectators,  as  by  one  consent,  arose,  not  even 
excepting  the  Emperor.  He  was  followed  by  the  other 
Flamines.  Then  came  the  twelve  Salii,  with  their  em- 
broidered tunics,  brazen  belts,  spear,  sword,  and  an- 
cilia,  leaping  and  dancing  violently,  and  singing,  as 
they  slowly  followed  their  Praesul.  Next  came  the 
Luperci  nearly  naked,  or  having  only  a  girdle  of  goat- 
skin round  their  waists,  and  thongs  of  the  same  in  their 
hands.  Next  followed  the  Potitii  and  Pinarii ;  who 
were  followed  by  the  Galli,  the  mad  priests  of  Cybele, 
making  a  great  noise  with  drums  and  cymbals,  using 
the  extravagant  gestures  of  madmen,  rolling  their 
heads,  and  beating  their  breasts  to  the  sound  of  the 
flute.  A  score  of  soldiers  succeeded,  and  behind  them 
came  in  pairs  the  real  or  supposed  Christians.  Of 
these,  some  followed  with  downcast  eyes,  dejected 
countenance,  and  faltering  gait — some  walked  boldly 
forward,  with  firm  step  and  erect  carriage — some  trip- 
ped gaily  and  carelessly  along — and  others,  and  by  far 
the  greater  part,  with  countenances,  which,  though 
solemn  and  anxious,  indicated  at  the  same  time,  the 
firm  and  determined  spirit  within.  Another  score  of 
armed  soldiers  followed  to  secure  the  prisoners,  and 
these  closed  the  procession. 

The  procession  meantime  winded  slowly  round  the 
arena,  after  which  it  stopped  for  some  minutes.  The 
Flamen  then  advanced  alone  to  the  altar,  and  after  the 
4 


38  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

due  performance  of  sacred  rites  and  invocations,  he 
threw  a  handful  of  incense  upon  it ;  the  fire  lighted 
up  for  an  instant  with  a  bright,  flashing  flame,  throw- 
ing upward  a  torrent  of  vivid  sparkles — and  the  pro- 
cession moved  on.  Each  in  turn  as  he  passed  took 
incense  from  a  small  silver  censer,  that  stood  for  the 
purpose  beside  the  altar,  and  threw  it  upon  the  flame, 
the  smoke  of  which  rolled  up  before  the  face  of  the 
statue  seeming  to  wrap  the  Thunderer  in  his  own 
clouds. 

Soon  it  came  the  Christians'  turn  to  acknowledge  or 
deny  their  Saviour.  Then,  indeed,  curiosity  and  inter- 
est were  intensely  excited.  The  first  pair  walked 
calmly  and  steadily  by,  without  even  looking  at  the 
altar.  They  were  instantly  withdrawn  from  the  pro- 
cession, and  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  arena,  as  were 
all  who  refusd  to  throw  incense  upon  the  flame.  Of 
the  second  pair,  one  seemed  to  hesitate,  but  his  com- 
panion walked  steadily  on.  The  pause  of  the  first  was 
but  for  a  moment.  The  voice  of  nature  would  be 
heard — that  of  religion  prevailed  ;  and  he  too  at  last 
passed  the  altar.  The  third  pair  seemed  of  a  different 
mould ;  and  carelessly  taking  some  incense  from  the 
censer,  they  jerked  it  lightly  upon  the  altar,  and  pass- 
ed along  with  the  procession.  Of  the  next' pair,  one 
was  remarkably  disturbed.  His  first  impulse  was  to 
stop  before  the  censer,  and  his  hand  was  half  stretched 
out  to  take  the  incense,  then  drawn  back  as  if  irreso- 
lute— then  "  My  child  !  My  child  !  "  burst  from  his 
pale  lips.  "  Thy  God  " — said  the  deep,  stern  voice  of 
his  companion.  The  incense  dropped  from  his  trem- 
bling hand.  But  the  voice  and  the  agony  of  nature 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  39 

again  prevailed,  and  again  he  seized  some  incense. 
"  Choose,"  repeated  the  deep  voice  of  his  companion, 
"  salvation  and  eternal  life,  or  an  hour  and  eternal 
death."  The  incense  again  dropped  from  his  hand, 
and  with  a  desperate  resolution  he  passed  the  altar  ; 
but  as  he  turned  away  to  join  that  band  of  fearless 
martyrs  in  the  centre  of  the  arena,  he  stopped  abruptly, 
and  in  a  tone  of  agony,  and  as  if  unconscious  that  any 
one  saw  him,  he  again  ejaculated,  "  My  child  !  my 
poor  fatherless,  deserted  Marcia  !  " 

At  that  moment  I  chanced  to  look  at  the  fair  Vestal ; 
and  though  her  face  was  turned  down,  I  caught  a 
glance  of  her  eye,  as  it  rested  a  moment  upon  the  poor 
desolate  father.  It  was  swimming  in  tears ;  and  mine, 
I  confess,  were  not  dry.  But  why  protract  the  painful 
description  ?  Enough,  that  many  that  day  denied  their 
Saviour,  and  many  too  stosd  faithful  to  his  cause.  Some, 
as  they  passed,  sang  hymns  with  loud,  clear  voices — 
some  prayed — others  wept.  But  enough.  Let  us  trust 
that  He  who  requires  not  ten  talents  where  he  has  im- 
parted but  one,  who  knows  both  the  weight  of  the  bur- 
den and  the  strength  of  him  who  is  to.bear  it,  will  not 
punish  his  children  for  wanting  the  fortitude  and  strength 
of  nerve  that  He  created  them  without — that  they  who 
that  day  "  denied  Him  before  men,"  may  find  mercy  in 
His  sight  who  knows  at  once  our  temptations  and  our 
frailty — that  the  repentant  sigh  may  have  arisen  and 
found  acceptance  before  Him,  and  that  hereafter  they 
too  may  not  be  denied  "  before  the  angels  in  heaven." 
Let  those  who  would  condemn  their  weakness,  first 
search  their  own  hearts,  and  be  still." 


40  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

I  have  already  said,  that  they  who  threw  incense 
upon  the  altar,  passed  on  with  the  procession  and  were 
dismissed.  The  rest  were  conducted  away  under  a 
guard  of  soldiers,  but  to  return  again ;  and  shortly  I 
was  condemned  to  witness  a  spectacle,  whose  bloody 
cruelty  surpassed  immeasurably  all  that  I  had  hitherto 
witnessed.  Armed  only  with  short,  straight  swords, 
these  men  were  obliged  to  contend  with  furious  wild 
beasts,  and  were  soon  torn  limb  from  limb.  Some, 
who  had  fought  successfully  with  single  beasts  had 
two  fresh  ones  let  out  against  them.  I  was  grieved 
when  any  of  these  poor  men  came  off  victorious,  for  it 
was  evidently  only  prolonging  their  sufferings ;  since 
they  were  instantly  beset  by  fresh  and  more  numerous 
assailants. 

The  poor  father  who  had  so  much  interested  me 
was  condemned  to  contend  with  an  elephant.  It  would 
seem  as  if  a  victory  might  be  easily  obtained  over  so 
heavy  and  unwieldy  a  beast ;  but  he  was  armed  only 
with  a  short,  straight  sword,  sharp-pointed  indeed,  but 
without  an  edge.  Consequently,  in  order  to  wound  his 
foe,  he  was  obliged  to  approach  him  so  nearly,  as  to 
come  within  the  reach  of  his  trunk.  The  victory  to  the 
elephant  would  have  been  almost  bloodless,  but  for  an 
accident.  During  some  part  of  the  preceding  exhibi- 
tion, some  one  had  dropped  a  short,  sharp  sword,  which 
meantime  lay  buried  beneath  the  sand,  having  escaped 
the  notice  of  the  persons  employed  to  level  the  arena 
after  each  contest.  This  sword,  in  the  course  of  the 
present  conflict  was  disclosed,  the  sand  having  been 
accidentally  brushed  away  during  the  scuffle.  The 
poor  man,  after  a  violent  thrust  at  the  side  of  the 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  41 

animal,  in  an  attempt  to  turn  short  round,  slipped, 
and  he  fell  directly  over  the  weapon  mentioned.  He 
grasped  it  with  all  the  energy  of  a  desperate  man  ! 
The  ponderous  beast  stimulated  by  his  pain  had  turned 
after  him  with  a  rapidity  hardly  to  be  expected  from 
his  mountainous  bulk.  A  desperate  scramble  ensued. 
I  saw  him  at  one  instant,  as  I  thought,  crushed  into 
the  earth  with  all  the  weight  of  his  terrible  antagonist's 
body— the  next  he  sprang  up  and  I  saw  the  bright 
blade  of  the  weapon  vanish  in  an  instant,  as  it  darted 
into  the  body  of  his  foe.  The  motion  of  lightning  is 
scarcely  more  rapid,  than  was  the  motion  of  that  des- 
perate and  dying  man,  as  he  ripped  up  the  belly  of  the 
beast,  This  terrible  and  unexpected  attack  seemed  to 
stagger  the  confidence  and  courage  of  the  elephant. 
He  bellowed  fearfully  for  an  instant,  as  he  even  attempt- 
ed to  rear  his  huge  bulk.  The  amphitheatre  rung 
with  acclamations  at  the  unexpected  feat.  A  torrent 
of  blood  followed,  and  the  very  bowels  of  the  beast 
hung  from  the  wound.  But  recovering  in  a  moment, 
he  wound  his  trunk  round  the  poor  and,  I  hope,  sense- 
less man,  as  he  lay  writhing  on  the  earth,  and  hurled 
him  into  the  air  ;  then  elevating  his  head  and  throwing 
back  his  trunk,  received  him  as  he  fell,  with  the  aid  of 
his  trunk  completely  impaling  him  upon  one  of  his 
huge  tusks.  Never  shall  I  forget  that  horrid  spectacle. 
I  saw  the  still  animated  form  of  the  Christian,  whirling 
round  upon  the  tooth — I  saw  his  eye  straining  and 
winking,  and  his  hand  wildly  clutching  vacancy,  while 
the  terrible  beast  held  him  up  as  if  in  triumph  to  the 
spectators.  The  crowd,  that  a  moment  before  had 
hailed  with  acclamations  the  unexpected  feat  of  the 
4* 


42  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

Christian,  now  again  strained  their  throats  in  honor  of 
the  victorious  beast ;  while  many  in  mockery  turned 
up  their  thumbs.  The  elephant,  as  if  he  understood 
the  laws  of  the  amphitheatre,  instantly  seized  the  poor, 
mangled  victim  in  his  trunk,  and  dashing  him  upon 
the  arena,  stamped  him  to  death. 

But  the  beast  himself  was  now  become  an  ob- 
ject of  interest.  He  attempted  to  move  away,  but 
his  excessive  weakness  prevented  him.  Perceiving 
how  his  strength  was  ebbing,  the  poor  animal  stopped 
— held  down  his  head — blew  out  his  trunk — uttering 
through  it  as  through  a  trumpet  a  succession  of  deep, 
short  sounds.  Then,  as  if  endeavouring  to  combat 
with  his  weakness,  he  raised  his  head.  In  vain — it 
again  sunk — again  a  deep  moan  was  blown  out,  as  it 
were,  from  his  trunk — a  rocking  sort  of  motion  follow- 
ed— he  staggered  a  few  steps,  and  with  another  groan, 
the  ponderous  animal  fell  like  a  tower  upon  the  sand. 

Disgusting  as  are  these  revolting  details,  I  should 
have  spared  you  them,  but  that  I  wished  you  to  know 
what  was  the  nature  of  the  dangers  and  sufferings  of 
those,  who  in  the  beginning  dared  to  acknowledge 
their  Master.  For  myself,  I  can  truly  say,  that  this 
horrible  exhibition  gave  me  any  thing  but  pleasure  ; 
and  when  I  looked  around  me,  and  saw  the  brightest 
eyes  and  the  fairest  cheeks  of  Pompeiif  gazing  and 
flushed  with  intense  and  delighted  interest — when  I 
saw  white  and  delicate  little  hands,  loudly  applauding 
the  bloodiest  scenes  of  this  bloody  tragedy,  mocking 
the  sufferings  of  the  courageous  martyr,  by  giving  the 
signal  of  death  to  the  elephant,  while  their  full  white 
bosoms  heaved  with  delight,  I  could  not  avoid  ex- 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  43 

claiming  to  myself  "  Either  these  are  all  monsters,  or 
I  am  too  imbecile  to  be  a  woman."  I  could  not  how- 
ever but  observe  that  the  fair  Lucilla,  instead  of  en- 
joying the  scene,  looked  steadfastly  down  ;  and  once 
for  a  moment,  and  as  if  involuntarily,  covered  her 
face  with  both  hands.  But  as  my  exclamation  burst 
from  my  lips,  she  again  turned  towards  me  with  a  look 
of  surprised  and  increasing  interest,  and  a  smile — that 
I  still  wear  in  my  heart. 

It  is  time  I  had  left  the  amphitheatre ;  but  one  more 
incident,  as  connected  with  my  story,  I  must  not  omit. 
The  last  Christian  who  was  brought  out  to  suffer  was 
an  old  and  venerable  man,  whose  white  hairs  and 
benevolent  countenance  pleaded  eloquently  in  his  be- 
half. In  the  precession  he  hobbled  along  by  the  aid 
of  his  staff  alone — the  last  of  the  Christians  in  the 
procession.  But  the  feebleness  of  his  body  extended  not 
to  his  mind ;  and  he  had  joined  the  band  in  the  centre 
of  the  arena,  with  a  countenance  as  calm  and  a  spirit 
as  firm  as  the  boldest  martyr  there.  As  he  advanced 
into  the  arena,  leaning  upon  his  staff  alone,  without  a 
weapon,  which  he  had  refused  as  being  too  old  and 
too  feeble  to  wield  it,  the  door  communicating  with 
the  vivarium  was  thrown  open,  and  a  huge  lion  rushed, 
with  a  deep  roar,  into  the  arena.  The  helpless  old 
man  turned  instinctively  towards  him,  but  without 
offering  any  show  of  resistance.  The  infuriated  ani- 
mal lashed  his  sides  with  his  tail,  and  tore  up  the  sand, 
as  he  bounded  furiously  round  the  arena.  The  old  man 
constantly  turned  towards  him,  with  his  eye  fixed  upon 
him  ;  while  the  lion,  as  if  he  wished  some  apology  for 
his  attack,  seemed  endeavouring  either  to  rouse  him  to 


44  TALE  OF'  POMPEII. 

some  show  of  resistance,  or  to  attack  him  in  the  rear ; 
for  as  he  sprang  towards  him,  he  constantly  turned 
aside  as  he  met  the  calm,  fixed  gaze  of  the  unwavering 
Christian.  At  length,  amid  the  deep  and  breathless 
silence,  the  old  man's  voice  was  heard,  as  he  turned 
upward  his  gaze,  "  Father,  into  thy  hands  I  commit 
my  spirit." 

"Now,"  whispered  Marcus,  "  the  charm  is  broken  ;  " 
and  at  the  same  instant,  the  lion  was  seen  bounding 
towards  him  with  prodigious  leaps.  This  time  he 
swerved  not  as  before  from  his  course,  and  in  an 
instant  he  was  seen  crouching  quietly  at  the  feet  of  the 
old  man.  A  pause  of  astonishment  held  the  specta- 
tors breathless  for  an  instant;  then  "  A  miracle !  a 
prodigy  !  "  burst  from  a  thousand  tongues,  in  every 
part  of  the  amphitheatre. 

The  Emperor  liked  not  this  ;  and  at  a  private  signal 
from  him  a  tiger  was  turned  out  upon  the  arena.  The 
lion  instantly  recovered  his  fierceness — his  loud,  deep 
roar  sounded  hke  thunder — his  mane  bristled,  and  his 
eye  flashed  fire.  The  tiger  came  leaping  towards 
them,  but  was  instantly  met  by  the  ravenous  lion. 
The  contest  was  fierce,  but  it  was  short.  The  short 
snarl  of  the  tiger  was  heard,  mingling  with  the  deep 
roar  of  the  lion — now  they  appeared  like  two  wrestlers 
erect,  and  closely  embraced  in  their  desperate  struggles 
— and  now  rolling  together  upon  the  sand,  and  half 
buried  under  the  cloud  that  their  struggles  raised 
about  them.  There  was  sudden  leaping  back  and  forth, 
as  each  tried  to  gain  some  advantage  in  a  new  attack. 
Gradually  however  the  contest  seemed  becoming  less 
violent ;  and  as  the  cloud  of  sand  subsided,  the  lion 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  45 

was  seen  standing  over  the  prostrate  tiger,  his  teeth 
buried  in  his  throat,  from  which  he  was  evidently 
draining  the  blood  to  satisfy  his  ravenous  appetite; 
while  the  tiger,  by  the  feebleness  of  his  occasional  strug- 
gles, which  gradually  became  only  convulsive  efforts, 
and  terminated  in  what  appeared  a  mere  spasmodic 
shiver  of  the  limbs,  showed  how  complete  was  the  vic- 
tory of  his  foe.  The  emperor  would  gladly  have 
ordered  fresh  beasts  to  be  turned  in  ;  but  the  clamor 
of  the  superstitious  mob  was  so  loud,  that  the  emperor, 
who  was  unwilling  to  give  offence  to  the  people  so 
soon  upon  his  first  visit,  thought  proper  to  consent. 
"It  is  the  will  of  the  gods — it  is  the  will  of  the 
gods ! "  was  shouted  on  every  side.  The  Emperor 
yielded  reluctantly  to  the  will,  not  of  the  gods,  but  of 
the  people,  and  the  old  man  was  removed  unharmed. 

The  spectacle  closed.  The  people  rose — while  the 
Emperor  retired,  and  the  confused  hum  and  noise  of  a 
retiring  crowd  was  heard. 

For  my  own  part,  I  involuntarily  exclaimed,  as  the 
old  man  was  led  safely  away  "  I  thank  the  gods  for 
this !  " 

"  Thank  Jehovah  rather,"  said  a  soft,  low  voice  at 
my  side. 

I  turned  instantly  round  towards  the  Vestal,  who,  I 
was  convinced,  must  have  uttered  the  remark,  but 
nothing  in  her  manner  indicated  it.  On  the  contrary, 
with  the  rest  of  the  Vestals  she  seemed  preparing  to 
retire,  conducted  and  guarded  by  the  lictor  and  the 
sanctity  of  her  own  character. 

For  myself,  I  returned  home,  wearied,  disgusted,  and 
disappointed.  Unheeding  the  jests  of  my  garrulous 


46  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

companion  on  my  effeminacy,  1  lay  down  to  dream  of 
•fights  and  amphitheatres,  and  death,  and,  must  I  confess 
it  ? — of  the  fair  Vestal,  whose  image  somehow  blended 
strangely  with  all. 


CHAPTER  V. 

IN  the  morning  I  was  awaked  by  the  low,  soft  voice 
of  young  Cennius  who  stood  at  my  bedside.  He  had 
come  he  said,  to  serve  as  my  guide,  a  Yet  I  fear  I  shall 
make  but  a  dull  one  after  your  lively  companion  of 
yesterday." 

"  You  know  him  well  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Yes !  "  he  returned  ;  "  he  is  well  known  to  all  the 
city,  as  one  whose  love  of  eating  is  surpassed  only  by 
his  attachment  to  his  friends.  But  come,"  he  added, 
as  he  saw  me  ready  to  follow  him. 

Stopping  only  to  take  a  hasty  mouthful,  I  followed 
him  through  the  ordinary  routine  of  sight-seeing,  till 
near  the  hour  of  the  bath ;  when  Julius  apologized  for 
leaving  me. 

"  An  old  friend  of  my  family  is  just  dead,"  he  said ; 
"an  old  and  a  brave  soldier.  His  house  is  hard  by; 
where,  unless  you  feel  disposed  to  go  in  with  me  for  a 
moment,  I  must  bid  you  good  morning." 

We  soon  reached  the  place.  A  large  cypress  branch 
was  placed  at  the  door.  I  entered  with  Julius.  The 
body,  dressed  in  a  white  toga,  was  laid  on  an  ivory 
couch  in  the  vestibule,  with  the  feet  outwards,  accor- 
ding to  custom,  as  if  about  to  take  its  last  departure. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  47 

The  couch  was  decorated  with  leaves  and  flowers. 
Wreaths  of  flowers  were  scattered  over  the  body.  A 
crown  that  had  been  given  him  for  his  bravery,  was 
placed  on  his  head.  In  his  mouth  was  put  a  small 
coin,  with  which  to  pay  Charon  for  his  passage.  His 
wife,  who  had  received  his  last  breath,21  with  her  family 
was  standing  over  the  couch,  uttering  bitter  lamenta- 
tions. 

Julius  had  too  much  tact  to  attempt  consolation. 
He  wrung  the  hands  of  the  family  in  silence,  then 
mingled  with  the  other  friends. 

We  soon  retired  ;  and  after  the  bath,  we  both  re- 
paired to  the  temple  of  Isis,  where  we  had  engaged  to 
dine  with  Marcus.  Our  meal,  notwithstanding  our 
late  sombre  visit,  was  both  merry  and  hearty ;  and  in 
the  company  of  the  worthy  priest  it  could  not  well  be 
otherwise.  We  were  obliged  however  to  retire  at  an 
early  hour,  in  order  to  be  present  at  the  funeral  rites  of 
Saturninus,  where  we  had  stopped  in  the  morning,  and 
where  we  found  the  friends  of  the  family  fast  assem- 
bling. 

When  all  was  ready,  a  couch  richly  adorned  with 
gold  and  purple  was  brought  in  on  the  shoulders  of  the 
nearest  relations.  Upon  this  the  body  was  placed,  and 
borne  out  by  them,  care  being  taken  to  carry  the  feet 
foremost. 

The  order  of  the  funeral .  procession  was  regulated 
by  the  Designator,  a  sort  of  undertaker  or  master  of 
ceremonies,  attended  by  lictors  clad  in  black.  First 
went  musicians  of  various  kinds,  with  pipes,  flutes,  and 
trumpets  ;  the  two  latter  being  much  larger  and  longer 
than  those  used  on  common  occasions,  in  order  to  pro- 


48  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

duce  a  more  grave  and  dismal  sound  ;  then  came  the 
mourning  women,  hired  to  lament  the  dead — then  the 
band  of  boys  and  girls,  employed  to  sing  the.  praises  of 
the  deceased  to  the  sound  of  the  flute.  Next  came  play- 
ers and  buffoons  dancing  and  singing ;  one  of  whom,  the 
Archimimus,  supported  the  character  of  the  dead,  by 
imitating  his  dress,  manner,  words,  and  actions  while 
alive.  Some  of  these  players  from  time  to  time  repeated 
with  a  loud  voice  quotations  from  dramatic  writers,  some 
of  which  would  come  with  striking  force  to  every  one, 
from  their  adaptation  to  the  occasion.  Then  came 
the  freedmen  of  the  deceased  with  caps  on  their  heads, 
and  forming  no  inconsiderable  train.  The  corpse 
itself  followed  borne  on  an  open  couch,  preceded  by 
other  couches,  in  which  were  placed  the  images  both 
of  himself  and  of  his  ancestors,  with  the  crowns  and 
rewards  that  he  had  received  for  his  valor. 

Behind  the  corpse  walked  the  family  of  the  deceased, 
in  mourning  robes  ;  his  sons  with  their  heads  veiled, 
and  his  daughters  with  their  faces  uncovered,  contrary 
to  the  usual  custom  of  both.  Then  followed  the 
magistrates  and  nobility,  friends  of  the  deceased,  the 
former  without  their  badges,  and  the  latter  without 
their  ornaments.  Julius  and  myself  walked  among 
these  last. 

In  this  order  the  funeral  procession  proceeded,  with 
torches  in  their  hands,  to  the  Civil  Forum,  where  a 
eulogy  was  pronounced  over  the  dead  ;  after  which  the 
procession  moved  to  the  funeral  pile,  which  was  without 
the  city,  in  the  street  of  tombs,  near  to  the  Via  Appia, 
but  a  little  removed  from  the  street.* 

*  A  law  required  them  to  be  at  least  60  feet  distant  from  any  house. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  49 

The  pile  was  built  in  the  form  of  an  altar,  with  four 
equal  sides,  of  inflammable  and  unpolished  wood,  and 
stuffed  with  paper  and  pitch.  The  body  of  Saturninus 
was  then  carefully  laid  with  its  couch  on  the  pile. 
The  eyes  were  opened.  The  family  crowded  around 
the  body,  kissing  it  with  many  tears.  His  eldest  son 
then  applied  a  lighted  torch  to  the  pile,  at  the  same 
time  carefully  averting  his  face,  as  did  also  the  rest  of 
the  family,  in  order  to  indicate  the  reluctance  with 
which  they  did  it ;.  at  the  same  time  uttering  prayers 
that  the  winds  might  assist  the  flames.  As  the  fire 
blazed  fiercely  round  the  body,  the  children  of  the  de- 
ceased threw  into  it  incense,  myrrh,  cassia,  cups  of  oil, 
and  little  vessels  bearing  inscribed  on  them  the  names 
of  the  substance  they  contained ;  also  the  clothes,  arms, 
rewards,  spoils,  and  ornaments  of  their  parent,  as  well 
as  whatever  articles  of  their  own  they  supposed  to 
have  been  agreeable  to  him  while  living.  To  gratify 
the  taste  of  the  Manes  for  blood,  whatever  animals  he 
had  been  fond  of  in  life,  were  now  slaughtered  and 
thrown  in  upon  the  pile. 

A  pair  of  doves,  of  which  Saturninus  had  been  fond,  and 
whose  perfect  tameness  and  gentleness  were  remarka- 
ble, were  first  brought  out  to  perish  with  their  master. 
His  son  presented  his  finger,  and  the  gentle  birds  in- 
stantly stept  upon  it,  at  the  well  known  signal  for  re- 
ceiving their  wonted  caresses,  at  the  same  time  ruffling 
the  feathers  about  their  necks,  and  uttering  the  hoarse 
croak  with  which  they  express  their  kindness.  They 
suspected  not  the  treachery  that  awaited  them.  Their 
necks  were  instantly  wrung  off,  and  their  bodies  thrown 

upon  the  pile. 

5 


50  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

But  what  grieved  me  most  was  the  sacrifice  that 
followed.  There  was  a  large,  beautiful  dog,  now  old 
like  his  master,  who  had  been  his  favorite  and  constant 
companion.  During  his  illness,  the  dog  had  taken  his 
station  beside  his  couch,  which  he  never  quitted.  After 
his  death  he  had  stretched  himself  beneath  the  bier, 
where  he  kept  his  constant  and  faithful  watch ;  and 
when  the  body  was  brought  to  the  funeral  pile,  he  had 
still  followed  in  the  train,  and  now  lay  panting  before 
the  pile  where  his  master  was  extended.  Upon  being 
called  by  the  eldest  son  of  Saturninus,  the  honest  animal 
arose,  and  instantly  received  a  heavy  blow  upon  the 
skull.  The  courageous  animal  sprang  up  as  if  to  seize 
his  assailant  by  the  throat;  then,  as  if  recollecting 
whose  was  the  hand  that  dealt  the  blow,  he  seated 
himself  and  fixed  his  eyes  reproachfully  upon  the  face 
of  his  unkind  master  ;  his  angry  yell  changing  into  a 
howl  of  extreme  pain.  A  second  blow  instantly 
descended,  and  the  poor  animal  fell,  but  not  dead.  I 
saw  a  tear  drop  from  the  eye  of  the  young  man  as  he 
stooped  over  the  faithful  beast.  He  lay  silent  but  not 
dead,  as  a  few  convulsive  struggles  from  time  to  time 
gradually  becoming  fainter,  indicated.  He  opened  his 
eyes  as  the  young  man  bent  over  him,  and  fixing 
them  upon  his  cruel  master,  and  feebly  wagging  his 
tail  as  in  forgiveness,  he  licked  the  hand  that  had  slain 
him,  and  died.  His  body  was  likewise  thrown  upon 
the  pile  with  that  of  his  beloved  master. 

When  it  was  at  length  burnt  down,  the  fire  was 
extinguished  and  the  embers  soaked  with  wine.  The 
bones  and  ashes  of  the  deceased  were  then  carefully 
collected  by  his  children ;  and,  sprinkled  with  the  rich- 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  51 

est  perfumes,  were  placed  in  an  alabaster  urn  along 
with  a  small  glass  vial  full  of  tears.22  The  urn  was 
then  carefully  raised  by  the  eldest  son  of  the  deceased 
and  placed  in  the  sepulchre.  The  friends  then  present, 
were  three  times  sprinkled  with  lustral  water  from  an 
olive  branch,  after  which  the  Praefica  pronounced 
solemnly  the  accustomed  form  of  dismission,  "  You 
may  depart."* 

All  present  now  came  crowding  about  the  tomb  to 
utter,  ere  they  departed,  the  last  farewell,  and  to  repeat 
their  last  kind  wishes.  "  We  also  shall  follow  you  in 
the  order  which  nature  shall  permit,"  was  uttered  by 
many  a  voice — "  May  the  earth  rest  lightly  upon  you, 
my  friend" — "Farewell" — was  uttered  and  repeated 
by  a  hundred  voices.  Upon  the  sepulchre  itself  were 
graven  the  initials  of  the  last  kind  wishes,  S.  T.  T.  L.t 

When  all  but  the  family  had  departed,  the  urn, 
twined  with  roses,  was  carefully  raised  and  carried  to 
the  sepulchral  chamber  of  the  family  of  Saturninus, 
where  it  was  placed  on  the  little  pillar  erected  for  this 
purpose,  while  the  family,  on  the  couches  surrounding 
it,  partook  of  the  funeral  repast. 

Such  were  the  formal  ceremonies  of  the  funeral 
of  Saturninus.  Passing  the  tomb  some  time  after  with 
Julius,  I  saw  them  busied  in  the  rite  of  oblation  to  the 
dead  ;  an  offering  periodically  performed,  and  con- 
sisting of  liquors,  victims,  and  garlands.  The  tomb 
was  strewed  with  flowers,  and  covered  with  crowns 
and  fillets.  On  the  little  altar  before  it,  libations  were 
poured,  and  incense  was  burnt ;  while  within,  the 
cavern  of  death  was  lighted  by  ever-burning  lamps. 

*  Ilicet — quasi,  Ire  licet.  f  Sit  tibi  terra  levis. 


52  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

The  ceremony  that  I  had  witnessed,  was  one 
well  adapted  to  jar  most  discordantly  the  string 
that  was  always  most  ready  to  vibrate  in  my  bo- 
som. I  had  just  seen  that,  whose  warm  pulses,  and 
gallant  heart,  and  glowing  mind,  but  a  few  short  days 
before  were  animated  and  ardent  as  my  own,  reduced 
to  a  handful  of  powder,  that  a  goblet  could  contain.  I 
concealed  not  the  feeling  from  Julius. 

He  seemed  to  ponder  deeply  for  some  minutes  ;  then 
as  if  suddenly  expelling  his  reflections  from  his  mind, 
he  said  gayly,  "  To-morrow  one  of  my  sisters  is  to  be 
married,  and  I  shall  expect  you  as  a  guest.  Perhaps 
the  wedding  will  efface  the  funeral.  The  sponsal  con- 
tract was  sealed  a  few  days  since,  and  the  ring  placed 
on  her  finger.23  To-morrow  was  then  fixed  for  the 
nuptial  ceremony. 

I  readily  accepted  the  invitation;  and  accordingly 
at  the  appointed  hour,  I  repaired,  nothing  loth,  to  the 
house  of  old  Cennius.  So  great  was  the  crowd  of 
friends  that  it  was  with  difficulty  that  I  could  get 
sufficiently  near  to  be  presented  to  the  bride;  and 
Julius  whispered  to  me  that  he  believed  he  must  defer 
introducing  me  to  the  rest  of  his  family  till  the  next 
day,  when  I  was  to  dine  with  him.  But  how  was  I 
astonished  and'  delighted  at  seeing  among  the  crowd, 
the  fair  Vestal,  who  had  so  charmed  me  at  the  amphi- 
theatre. Could  I  but  have  crowded  to  the  side  of 
Julius  at  that  moment,  I  should  certainly  have  made 
myself  master  of  all  the  information  respecting  her 
that  he  could  bestow.  As  it  was,  I  could  only  gaze 
and  admire,  and  lament  that  she  should  be  a  Vestal, 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  53 

The  bride  however,  to  all  other  eyes,  was  the  great 
object  of  attraction.  She  was  dressed  in  a  long  white 
robe,  bordered  with  a  purple  fringe.  Her  waist  was 
bound  with  a  zone,  made  of  wool,  and  tied  in  the  knot 
called  Herculeus.  Her  face  was  covered  with  a  flame- 
colored  veil ;  *  her  shoes  were  of  the  same  color. 
With  the  point  of  a  spear  her  hair  was  divided  into 
six  locks,  and  crowned  with  flowers.  All  then  being 
in  readiness,  the  auspices  were  solemnly  consulted,  and 
sacrifices  were  offered  to  the  gods  ;  especially  to  Juno. 
The  gall  of  the  victim,  previous  to  the  sacrifice,  was 
taken  out  and  thrown  away.t  The  bridegroom  then 
asked  her  if  she  were  willing  to  become  the  mistress 
of  his  family.  She  answered  that  she  was  willing. 
In  her  turn  she  put  the  same  question,  and  received 
the  same  answer.  She  was  then  taken  as  if  by  force 
from  the  arms  of  her  mother,  to  be  conducted  to  her 
husband's  house.  Three  boys,  whose  parents  were 
living,  attended  her ;  one  supporting  her  on  each  side 
by  the  arm,  while  the  other  walked  before,  bearing  a 
flaming  flambeau  of  pine.  Five  other  torches  were 
also  carried  before  her.  A  boy,  called  Camillus,  car- 
ried in  a  covered  vase  the  utensils  of  the  bride,  and 
playthings  for  children.  It  was  not  till  night  that  the 
procession  left  the  house  of  Cennius,  still  attended  by 
a  large  concourse  of  relations  and  friends. 

The  house  of  the  bridegroom  was  situated  very  near 
to  that  of  Cennius.  On  our  arrival,  we  found  the  door 
and  door  posts  adorned  with  leaves  and  flowers.  Ac- 
cording to  custom,  the  bride  was  then  asked  who  she 

*  To  denote  modesty. 

f  To  indicate  the  removal  of  all  bitterness  from  marriage. 

5* 


54  TALE  OF  POMPEII, 

i 

was.  To  which  she  replied,  "Where  you  are  the 
master,  I  am  the  mistress."*  She  then  proceeded  to 
bind  her  husband's  door-posts  with  woollen  fillets,  and 
to  anoint  them  with  the  fat  of  swine,  to  prevent  en- 
chantments.t  ^  She  was  then  gently  lifted  over  the 
threshold,  to  avoid  the  evil  omen  of  touching  it  on  that 
occasion. £  The  keys  §  of  the  house  were  now  deliver- 
ed to  her,  and  a  sheepskin  fl  was  spread  beneath  her. 
Both  she  and  her  husband  then  touched  fire  and 
water.** 

The  nuptial  feast  was  then  given  by  the  husband, 
while  musicians  sang  the  nuptial  song,  in  which  the 
oft  repeated  chorus,  "  lo  Hymen  Hymenaee,"  predomi- 
nated. 

The  house  itself  was  one  of  the  prettiest  I  had  seen 
in  Pompeii.25  A  passage  for  entrance,  at  each  side  of 
which,  is  a  little  apartment  for  the  slaves,  leads  into  the 
central  court ;  and  the  room  for  the  reception  of  com- 
pany is  beautifully  painted  with  fruits  and  birds.  In 
the  garden  is  a  fountain,  in  the  form  of  a  niche  or 
grotto,  encrusted  with  shells  and  mosaics,  in  the  centre 
of  which  is  a  comic  mask,  from  whose  mouth  gushes  a 
stream  of  water.  This  water  flows  into  a  basin,  in  the 

•  '*  «  Ubi  tu  Caius,  ibi  ego  Caia."  Caia  was  a  name  applied  to  a 
bride. 

•j-  Hence  the  name  uxor,  quasi  unxor,  is  derived. 

J  Because  the  threshold  is  sacred  to  Vesta  the  goddess  of 
virgins. 

§  To  denote  her  being  entrusted  with  the  management  of  the 
family. 

1f  Indicative  of  her  future  employment  in  the  spinning  of  wool. 

**  Because  they  supposed  that  from  these  two  elements  all 
things  proceed. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  55 

centre  of  which  rises  a  little  column,  surmounted  by  a 
small  bronze  statue  of  a  winged  genius  holding  a  swan 
under  his  arm,  from  whose  beak  spouts  another  fountain. 
At  the  side  of  the  basin  sits  a  charming  little  bronze 
statue  of  a  fisherman,  who,  with  his  hook  thrown  into 
the  water,  is  waiting  for  his  prey.  In  a  basket  sus- 
pended from  his  arm,  is  a  bronze  fish. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  fountain  reclines  another 
small  statue  of  marble,  representing  a  fisherman  asleep. 
At  his  side  lies  a  vase  overturned,  as  if  it  had  just 
fallen  from  his  hand  as  he  dropt  asleep.  In  the  other 
hand  is  a  basket.  He  seems  to  be  wrapt  in  a  seaman's 
cloak,  with  its  hood  or  cape.  But  I  return  to  the  bride. 

After  supper,  her  husband  untied  the  knot  in  her 
zone  already  mentioned,  and  she  was  conducted  to  the 
bridal  chamber,  by  matrons  who  had  been  married  only 
to  one  husband,  and  laid  in  the  nuptial  couch,  which, 
magnificently  adorned,  was  placed  in  the  hall,  opposite 
to  the  door,  and  covered  with  flowers.  Around  it  were 
the  images  of  Pertunda,  Subigus,  and  other  divinities. 
Nuptial  songs,  the  epithalamia,  were  sung  by  young 
women  before  the  door  till  midnight.  I  forgot  to  men- 
tion that  the  husband  on  the  completion  of  the  mar- 
riage ceremony,  threw  handfuls  of  nuts  among  the 
boys ;  while  the  bride  consecrated  to  Venus  the  dolls 
and  playthings  of  her  childhood.  The  guests  were  at 
last  dismissed  with  small  presents. 

The  following  day  another  entertainment  was  given 
by  the  husband,  when  presents  were  sent  to  the  bride 
by  her  friends  and  relations.  Here  she  began  to  pre- 
side over  the  family,  by  performing  sacred  rites. 


56  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

I  have  been  thus  minute  in  describing  the  two  rites 
of  sepulture  and  marriage,  not  only  from  the  deep  im- 
pression they  then  made  on  my  mind,  but  because  as  I 
now  transcribe  my  history  for  my  children,  should  I  be 
so  fortunate  as  to  become  a  father,  it  may  not  be  unin- 
teresting to  them  as  Christians  or  as  men  to  be  inform- 
ed of  the  nature  of  the  rites  practised  by  their  fathers, 
which  are  already  hastening  to  be  done  away  and 
forgotten,'  in  the  increasing  light  and  simplicity  of 
Christianity.  At  the  same  time  they  will  rejoice  that 
I  spare  them  any  account  of  the  nature  of  the  feelings 
that  agitated  and  occupied  my  own  mind  during  the 
day,  from  the  presence  of  the  Vestal. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  following  morning  Julius  called  early  upon  me. 
He  had  thought  much  upon  the  remarks  which  had 
fallen  from  me  with  regard  to  the  funeral,  and  he  now 
endeavoured  to  turn  the  conversation  into  that  channel. 
After  speaking  of  the  ceremony  and  events  of  the 
preceding  day,  he  at  length  suddenly  observed, 

"  By  the  way,  Lucius,  I  have  always  neglected  to 
ask  you  how  you  were  pleased  with  the  exhibition  at 
the  amphitheatre." 

"  Why,  to  tell  you  frankly,"  I  replied,  "  the  only 
combat  that  pleased  me,  was  that  between  the  lion  and 
the  tiger,  in  which  the  old  man's  safety  seemed  so 
deeply  implicated.  For  the  rest,  and  I  care  not  who 
knows  it,  I  never  desire  to  be  again  present  at  such 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  57 

bloody  exhibitions.  They  accord  as  little  with  my  rus- 
tic habits,  as  I  suspect  they  did  with  the  feelings  of 
the  handsome  Vestal  who  sat  before  me." 

The  rapid  change  in  the  aspect  of  a  deep  black 
cloud  when  brilliantly  illuminated  by  lightning  is  not 
more  sudden,  than  was  the  vivid,  kindling  expression 
of  Julius's  countenance  from  its  ordinary  sad  gravity, 
as  he  fixed  his  eyes  upon  me. 
.  "  You  love  not  then  to  look  on  death  ?  " 

Death  !  there  it  was  again— the  scorpion  that  never 
slept — the  dagger  that  hung  eternally  over  me. 

"  No  !  "  I  replied.  "  I  confess  I  had»  heard  so  much 
of  these  vaunted  exhibitions,  that  I  greatly  desired  to 
witness  them.  But  I  have  seen  enough.  Julius,"  I 
added,  "  there  is  a  fiend  that  haunts  me,  and  wherever 
I  go,  I  see  his  terrible  footsteps,  and  listen  to  his  re- 
morseless voice — it  is  death.  I  would  fly  to  the  deep- 
est forest,  so  I  might  shut  out  for  ever  his  approach." 

"  Lucius,"  said  Cennius,  in  accents  grave  even  for 
his  grave  voice,  "  Death  is  a  monster  that  you  cannot 
fly — but  you  may  conquer  him." 

"  What  mean  you,  Julius  ?" 

"  What  I  say.  Since  life  is  short,  you  say,  I  will 
crowd  it  out  with  pleasures — since  but  few  sands  have 
time  to  run,  they  shall  at  least  be  golden.  /  say  to 
you,  since  time  is  short  lay  hold  on  eternity — since  life 
here  is  fleeting,  seek  that  which  endureth  for  ever." 

"  You  speak  in  riddles,  Julius." 

"  I  will  do  so  then  no  longer.    Become  a  Christian." 

"  A  Christian  !  "  echoed  I  in  astonishment.  "  Is 
it  possible  that  you  too  have  become  a  victim  to  that 
fearful  delusion  1  Have  the  terrible  tortures  and  death 


58  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

you  so  lately  witnessed,  not  terrors  sufficient  to  guard 
you  from  such  a  desperate  credulity  ?  " 

But  I  will  not  detail  our  conversation.  Suffice  it  to 
say,  that  before  we  parted,  I  had  agreed  to  meet  him 
the  following  morning  before  daybreak,  to  accompany 
him  to  one  of  the  meetings  of  that  sect ;  having  first 
plighted  rny  word,  neither  to  betray  him,  nor  any  that 
I  should  meet  there.  It  was  a  bold  promise — eternal 
life.  But  to  what  strange  credulity  will  not  fanaticism 
lead  its  votaries.  My  curiosity,  however,  was  piqued, 
and  never  did  lover  pant  more  for  the  desired  hour, 
than  I  for  thatof  the  meeting  of  this  Christian  assem- 
bly. We  had  engaged,  Marcus  and  myself,  to  sup  with 
Cennius.  After  running  over  the  city  till  we  were 
heartily  tired,  we  repaired  at  the  eighth  hour  to  the 
bath,  previous  to  meeting  again  at  supper.  On  our  way 
home  for  this  purpose,  we  passed  a  house  on  our  right 
near  the  Herculanean  gate,  which  Julius  pointed  out 
to  me  as  the  house  of  the  Vestals.26  I  cast  an  eager 
glance  upon  it,  but  there  was  nothing  peculiar  in  its 
external  appearance.  Having  arrived  at  the  gates  of 
the  city,  Julius  left  me  and  returned  home. 

After  having  bathed,  I  repaired  to  his  dwelling, 
which  is  situated  not  far  from  the  temple  of  Isis.  Upon 
opening  the  door  I  absolutely  started  back  from  fear  of 
a  dog,  which,  wrought  in  elegant  mosaic  upon  the  floor, 
is  represented  chained  indeed,  but  in  the  act  of  spring- 
ing upon  those  who  cross  the  threshold.  Below  was 
written  in  letters  of  mosaic,  the  words,  CAVE  CANEM.27 

Passing  through  a  narrow  passage,  adorned  with  ele- 
gant taste,  I  entered  the  atrium  of  the  building.  In  the 
crowd  and  hurry  and  jostling  of  the  day  before,  in 


TALE  OF  BOMPEII.  59 

merely  passing  through  this  court  the  things  I  am  about 
to  mention  had  escaped  my  notice.  But  now  when  it 
was  empty  and  I  left  alone  in  it  to  wait  for  my  friend, 
they  forced  themselves  upon  me. 

In  the  centre  of  the  atrium  was  a  large  basin  for  the 
reception  of  rain-water.  The  walls  were  adorned  with 
Homeric  paintings.  On  the  wall,  at  the  right  as  I  en- 
tered, was  a  beautiful  painting  of  the  daughter  of  Chry- 
ses,  who,  sought  by  Agamemnon,  is  received  by  Ulysses, 
who  extends  to  her  his  right  hand,  as  he  is  about  em- 
barking in  the  vessel  destined  to  conduct  her  to  her 
father.  The  second  was  a  painting  of  Briseis,  parting 
with  Achilles.  The  expression  of  Briseis,  as  she  raises 
her  veil  as  if  to  discover  at  once  both  her  grief  and 
her  beauty,  the  consternation  of  the  heralds,  the  fierce 
vivacity  of  Patroclus,  the  group  of  the  Myrmidons  in  the 
back-ground,  all  served  to  mark  this  a  painting  of  un- 
common beauty.  At  the  left  on  entering,  is  a  beauti- 
ful Venus  with  golden  bracelets  about  her  ancles.  A 
dove  reposes  at  her  feet,  holding  in  its  beak  a  branch 
of  myrtle.  But  the  fourth — how  shall  I  express  my  sur- 
prise, at  recognising  in  a  Thetis,  who  accompanied  by 
Isis  supplicates  Jupiter  to  avenge  the  wrong  of  her 
son,  the  perfect  breathing  likeness  of  the  fair  Vestal. 
While  I  stood  gazing  in  mute  admiration,  Julius  en- 
tered. "  Well,"  said  he,  "  how  like  you  our  family 
portraits  ?  " 

"  What,  are  these  portraits  of  your  family  ?  "  I  in- 
quired. 

"  All  of  the  most  important  figures.  All  those 
fair  ladies  are  my  sisters,  to  whom  I  shall  have  the 
pleasure  to  introduce  you." 

"  And  the  Vestal  ?  " 


60  TALE  OF,  POMPEII. 

"  Is  likewise  my  sister." 

"  But  why  did  you  never  tell  me  before." 

"  Because  you  never  asked  me  before." 

Our  conversation  was  here  interrupted  by  the  en- 
trance of  Caius  Marcus,  whose  broad,  laughing  visage 
appeared  at  the  door.  What,  Lucius  !  here  before 
me,"  said  he  ;  "  for  the  last  thirty  years  I  have  been 
the  first  at  all  the  feasts,  both  merry  and  funeral  in 
Pompeii." 

"  Yes,"  interrupted  I,  "  and  if  fame  speak  truth,  the 
same  has  sometimes  happened  at  the  weddings." 

"  Doubtless  that  accident  has  sometimes  happened — 
what  does  not  happen  in  the  long  space  of  thirty 
years  ?  " 

We  were  received  by  old  Cennius  with  the  rough,  but 
frank  and  manly  courtesy  of  one  more  used  to  camps 
than  to  courts.  "  Come,"  said  he,  as  he  ushered  us 
into  the  supper-room.  "  If  our  number  exceed  that 
of  the  Graces,  we  shall  contrive  not  to  fall  short  of  that 
of  the  Muses." 

"  We  are  but  eight,"  I  observed. 

"  There  is  one  already  at  the  board,"  he  said,  "  who 
is  always  ready  to  complete  the  number;"  at  the  same 
time  pointing  to  a  motionless  figure  that  already  reclin- 
ed on  his  couch  at  the  semicircular  table.  Then,  fixing 
his  eye  upon  it,  in  a  grave  voice  he  added,  according 
to  the  accustomed  form,  "  Be  merry,  while  life  is  ours 
to  enjoy."* 

Well  did  I  know  the  everlasting  form  of  death,  as  it 
grinned  beneath  its  semi-transparent  veil ;  and  al- 
ready did  I  feel  the  breath  of  the  sepulchre  chilling  the 
*  "  Vivamus,  dum  licet  esse  bene." 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  61 

sunny  blossoms  that  enjoyment  was  just  calling  into 
being.  My  place  was  at  its  side.  I  reclined  upon  the 
same  couch,  in  dreadful  amity  with  the  ghastly  mon- 
arch. The  table  was  consecrated  by  the  presence  of 
the  Lares  and  the  sacred  salt-holders,  which,  beautifully 
wrought  in  ivory,  surrounded  a  little  silver  altar,  sup- 
ported by  grotesque  figures,  that  adorned  the  centre 
of  the  table.  Upon  it  burned  constantly  a  pale  and 
attenuated  flame.  The  old  knight  made  the  customary 
invocation  and  libation,  throwing  a  portion  of  the  dif- 
ferent viands  upon  the  little  altar,  whose  flame  flashed 
up  brightly  for  a  moment,  as  portions  of  fat  fell  into  it- 
The  ceremony  concluded,  a  number  of  slaves  enter- 
ed with  baskets  hanging  upon  their  arms,  and  going 
behind  the  company,  crowned  their  heads  with  gar- 
lands of  flowers  and  leaves,  tied  and  adorned  gayly 
enough  with  ribbons,  to  prevent  intoxication.  Others 
carved  the  meats  to  the  sound  of  flutes.  As  usual,  the 
supper  began  with  eggs,  and  remembering  my  worthy 
priest's  apparent  prevailing  passion,  I  could  not  help 
smiling  as  I  witnessed  the  fervor  of  his  devotions. 
Scarcely  could  he  find  time  to  utter  even  a  joke.  But 
my  smiles  were  exchanged  for  wonder,  as  I  saw  with 
what  unabated  ardor,  turbot  and  lamprey,  pike  and 
pheasant  and  thrush,  were  all  vanishing  away  beneath 
the  ruthless  mastication  of  the  worthy  protege  of  Isis. 
And  when,  to  the  sound  of  a  flute,  some  rare  dish  was 
brought  in  by  slaves  crowned  with  flowers,  his  attacks 
upon  it  were  made  with  as  much  eagerness  as  if  he  had 
hitherto  remained  famished.  When  at  length  even  the 
inveterate  appetite  of  Marcus  began  to  betray  symp- 
toms of  satiety,  the  meats  were  removed.  This  was 
6 


62  TALE -OF  POMPEII. 

soon  succeeded  by  slaves  bearing  amphorae.  They  were 
followed  by  four  beautiful  young  boys,  who  poured  out 
the  wine  into  a  large  bowl,  mingling  it  with  water  from 
which  they  filled  the  goblets.  Other  slaves  brought  in 
the  dessert.  Music  breathed  its  full,  rich  notes — liba- 
tions flowed  from  the  table  and  jests  circulated  around 
it.  The  goblets  were  wreathed  with  coronals  of  flow- 
ers— healths  were  drunk — and  in  a  short  time  Marcus's 
jests  were  not  the  only  ones  that  sparkled  like  their 
own  bright  inspiration — old  Cennius's  Falernian. 

It  was  midnight  before  we  began  to  think  of  separat- 
ing. We  ttoen  poured  out  our  libations  anew — drank  to 
our  host  and  to  the  Emperor — and  when  at  last  we  had 
risen  to  depart,  Marcus  insisted  upon  our  taking  a  part- 
ing cup,  in  honor  of  Mercury,  that  we  might  enjoy 
profound  repose. 

For  myself,- 1  must  confess,  that  notwithstanding  the 
grisly  companion  at  my  side,  whose  motionless  figure 
eternally  spoke  of  the  grave,  by  whom  the  jests  passed 
unenjoyed  and  the  viands  untasted  ;  whose  rigid  form 
never  bent  in  courtesy,  and  whose  mute  tongue  neither 
jest  nor  enjoyment  could  move, — notwithstanding  all 
this,  there  was  no  voice  that  echoed  back  the  laugh  or 
scattered  the  jest  more  heartily  than  mine.  Old  Cen- 
nius  was  boisterous,  and  Julius  himself  was  warmed  for 
a  while  out  of  his  serious  gravity,  to  be  as  gay  as  myself. 

We  took  leave  at  last  of  our  worthy  entertainers ; 
and  for  myself,  with  a  giddy  and  confused  head,  I  be- 
gan to  wend  my  way  homeward.  I  had  arrived  nearly 
at  the  house  that  Julius  had  pointed  out  to  me  as  the 
house  of  the  Vestals,  when  I  observed  a  female  figure 
gliding  before  me,  and  evidently  hastening  at  the  sight 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  63 

of  me  as  if  afraid.  Astonished  to  see  one  out  so  late 
and  alone,  and  somewhat  flushed  with  the  wine  I 
had  drunk,  I  hastened  to  follow  her.  She  perceived 
my  purpose  and  darted  across  the  street  with  the 
intention  of  passing  down  the  first  that  leaves  the  Ap- 
pian  Way  after  entering  the  city  gates,  and  which 
passes  off  at  a  very  acute  angle.  The  moon  was  up, 
and  bright ;  but  this  street  lay  in  deep  shadow,  and  she 
evidently  took  it  in  order  to  baffle  my  pursuit.  But 
she  met  with  an  unexpected  obstacle.  The  dark  street 
in  which  she  had  entered  to  conceal  herself  from  me, 
concealed  likewise  from  herself  the  figure  of  a  tall, 
powerfully  built  man,  who  was  approaching  from  that 
direction,  and  who,  opening  his  arms,  received  the  fair 
fugitive  in  them,  as  much  to  his  confusion  as  to  hers. 
For  a  moment  we  all  three  stood  motionless  with  sur- 
prise, but  when  the  man  who  thus  held  her,  attempted 
to  draw  her  more  closely  to  him,  she  turned  her  head 
to  me,  who  was  standing  in  the  broad  moonlight,  and 
to  my  unutterable  surprise,  addressed  me  by  name, 
demanding  protection. 

Astonished  at  this  unexpected  appeal,  I  advanced 
toward  them. 

The  man  seemed  irresolute  for  a  moment ;  then,  re- 
leasing her,  said,  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders  as  he 
turned  away,  "  Beware,  lady,  for  the  future,  how, 
when  you  desire  to  find  yourself  in  the  arms  of  one 
man,  you  contrive  to  throw  yourself  into  those  of  an- 
other. It  is  no  uncommon  circumstance."  Then 
turning  towards  me,  he  said,  with  a  haughty  air,  "  I 
congratulate  you,  young  man,  on  your  prize.  It  is  not 
every  one  who  would  so  readily  give  up  the  plum  that 


64  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

had  dropt  into  his  mouth  ;  nor,  to  say  sooth,  should  I, 
but  that  I  have  commonly  found  such  fruit  to  be  rot- 
ten." So  saying  he  walked  away,  and  the  fair  one 
came  instantly  toward  me  ;  but  judge  of  my  surprise, 
I  had  almost  said  horror,  at  beholding,  distinct  in  the 
clear  moonlight,  the  beautiful  features  of  the  Vestal. 
She  saw  my  astonishment. 

"  Lucius,"  she  said,  "  judge  me  not  by  appearances, 
but  tell  Julius  of  this  rencounter,  and  he  will  explain 
all  to  you,  if  it  be  prudent.  Meantime  I  need  not 
remind  you,  that  my  life  depends  on  your  discretion." 

I  readily  promised  secrecy,  and,  before  I  left  her, 
already  had  half  forgiven  and  acquitted  her  in  my  own 
mind. 

"  Do  you  know  that  man  ?  "  said  she.  "  I  do  not,  nor 
indeed  did  I  see  his  features  very  distinctly,"  I  replied. 

"I  know  him  well,"  said  she  ;  "  and  woe  to  me,  had 
he  recognised  me.  His  name  is  Matho,  a  creature  of 
the  Emperor's.  I  have  an  indefinite  feeling  of  horror 
always  at  the  sight  of  that  man,  against  whom  I  know 
nothing,  but  for  whom  I  have  an  unaccountable  an- 
tipathy." 

So  saying  we  arrived  at  the  house  of  the  Vestals. 
A  light  scratch  upon  the  door  caused  it  to  be  very 
carefully  opened,  and  the  Vestal  vanished.  But  as  she 
entered,  she  again  turned  towards  me,  and  laid  her 
finger  on  her  lips  as  she  disappeared.  For  myself,  I 
returned  home,  with  my  head  more  full  than  ever  of 
the  fair  Lucilla;  wondering,  speculating,  doubting,  yeti 
after  all,  believing. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  65 


CHAPTER  VII. 

I  HAD  not  much  time  for  sleep,  had  I  felt  ever  so  much 
disposed  to  it ;  since,  in  order  to  keep  my  engagement 
with  Julius,  I  was  obliged  to  rise  before  daybreak  ;  and 
according  to  appointment,  I  met  him  at  the  semicircu- 
lar seat  in  front  of  the  tomb  of  Mammia.  He  was 
punctual  to  his  engagement. 

So  full  was  I  of  my  last  night's  adventure,  that  I  had 
scarcely  saluted  him  before  I  commenced  the  history. 
He  listened,  without  betraying  the  least  surprise,  to  my 
tale,  and  after  a  moment's  silent  deliberation,  he  said, 
"  I  will  explain  this  to  you  as  we  return." 

After  passing  a  short  distance  through  the  street  of 
tombs,  Julius  suddenly  turned  off  from  the  Appian 
Way  into  a  private  path,  that  led  behind  a  magnificent 
tomb.  On  his  touching  a  secret  spring,  the  door  start- 
ed open,  and  we  entered.  Julius  carefully  shut  the 
door  after  us,  and  we  descended  some  steps,  the  en- 
trance to  which  was  artificially  closed  by  a  marble 
block,  which,  even  to  a  close  observer,  seemed  to  be 
one  of  those  which  composed  the  wall.  At  the  bottom  of 
the  steps  there  twinkled  a  single  and  feeble  light,  whose 
rays  were  barely  sufficient  to  show  me  that  we  were 
in  a  crooked,  low,  narrow,  descending  gallery,  whose 
walls  were  constantly  projecting  masses  of  ragged 
stone,  now  from  the  sides,  and  now  from  the  roof,  to 
the  great  inconvenience  of  the  passenger.  Julius, 
however,  seemed  perfectly  acquainted  with  the  way, 
and  his  familiarity  enabled  him  to  proceed  with  a  ra- 
pidity, that  I  found. very  inconvenient.  A  sudden  sharp 
6* 


66  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

turn  in  the  passage,  brought  us  unexpectedly  to  the 
end  of  it,  and  we  stood  at  the  entrance  of  a  spacious, 
lofty  cave,  lighted  by  what  seemed  to  me  a  blaze  of 
dazzling  light,  as  I  came  from  the  dark  and  gloomy 
passage-way.  An  altar  stood  at  one  part  of  the  cave, 
but  there  was  no  statue  of  a  divinity  presiding  over  it. 
Instead  of  it,  however,  there  was  the  figure  of  a  cross, 
around  which  blazed  a  score  of  tall  candles.  The  altar 
was  elevated  upon  a  platform,  which  was  mounted  by 
three  steps.  Upon  this  platform  stood  a  man  whom  I 
at  once  recognised  as  the  same  old  man  whom  I  had 
so  lately  seen  at  the  amphitheatre,  and  whose  venera- 
ble countenance  and  wonderful  escape  had  so  much 
pleased  me.  While  I  stood  at  the  end  of  the  passage, 
almost  blinded  by  the  sudden  glare  and  the  strange 
scene  and  rites,  a  sudden  burst  of  delightful  harmony 
swelled  from  the  united  voices  of  that  assembly.  The 
music  was  solemn  and  imposing  ;  and  this,  joined  doubt- 
less with  the  mysterious  scene,  and  the  recollection  of 
the  tremendous  peril  incurred  by  the  worshippers  of  this 
unknown  God,  was  well  adapted  powerfully  to  affect 
the  imagination.  The  congregation  was  very  consid- 
erable in  point  of  numbers,  and  was  composed  equally 
of  males  and  females.  But  near  the  door  was  one, 
whose  low,  rich,  full  voice,  sounded  to  me  as  not  alto- 
gether that  of  a  stranger.  I  started  eagerly  forward  to 
gain  a  view  if  possible  of  her  features,  although  so  closely 
was  she  veiled,  that  a  moment's  reflection  convinced 
me  it  was  a  hopeless  attempt.  Julius  noticed  the  action, 
and,  divining  the  motive,  he  gently  drew  me  back  and 
whispered  in  my  ear,  "  It  is  Lucilla." 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  67 

Her  Vestal  robes  were  laid.aside,  or  effectually  con- 
cealed beneath  the  long  dress  in  which  she  was  muf- 
fled. At  a  little  distance  from  her,  stood  a  large,  athletic 
man,  whom  Julius  pointed  out  to  me  as  Matho.  "  Lu- 
cilla  has  a  violent,  and  I  think,  a  groundless  antipathy 
to  that  man.  He  is  the  one  whom  you  met  last  night. 
He  professes  to  be  a  convert  to  Christianity  ;  but  God 
only  sees  the  heart." 

Meantime  the  music  ceased,  and  the  venerable  Ve- 
tullius,  which  was  the  name  of  the  old  man,  arose  and 
addressed  the  audience. 

His  first  words  fixed  and  chained  my  attention, 
for  he  spoke  of  a  resurrection  from  the  dead.  How 
my  heart  leaped  within  me  as  he  proceeded  and  de- 
monstrated, with  the  most  forcible  simplicity,  the  ground 
of  the  doctrine,  and  its  immutable  strength.  I  listened 
with  astonishment,  which  gradually  yielded  to  hope 
and  delight.  Here  then,  if  true,  was  what  my  heart 
had  so  panted  for,  a  promise  and  a  pledge  of  eternal  life. 
I  had  heretofore  considered  the  supporters  of  this  doc- 
trine but  as  dreaming  enthusiasts,  who  had  persuaded 
themselves  at  last  of  the  truth  of  what  they  had  so 
earnestly  desired.  But  when  I  heard  the  grounds  and 
arguments  of  the  doctrine  stated  in  the  calm,  forcible, 
and  dispassionate  language  of  the  preacher,  I  felt  that 
there  was  no  dreamer  there,  and  I  was  carried  away 
for  a  moment,  and  my  heart  yielded,  and  my  reason 
bowed  beneath  the  overwhelming  weight  of  truth. 

After  the  exercises  were  over,  and  the  audience  had 
gradually  dropped  away,  I  was  introduced  to  Vetullius, 
and  expressed  to  him  the  pleasure  I  had  felt  in  listen- 
ing to  him.  The  old  man  heard  me  with  satisfaction, 


53  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

and  taking  from  a  little. cabinet  beneath  the  altar  a 
scroll  of  parchment,  he  offered  it  to  me,  first  making 
me  promise  both  to  conceal  it,  and  to  read  it.  I  read- 
ily agreed  to  both  conditions,  for  my  own  curiosity  was 
now  strongly  excited  to  know  what  this  doctrine  was 
which  seemed  to  be  able  so  to  brace  the  most  cowardly 
against  the  fear  both  of  tortures  and  of  death. 

"  The  God  of  the  Christians  must  indeed  be  both 
powerful  and  benevolent,"  said  I,  "  since  he  interfered 
in  so  miraculous  a  manner  for  your  preservation  at  the 
amphitheatre.' *  "  He  is  indeed  both,"  replied  the  old 
man.  "  My  escape  was  truly  miraculous,  but  not  in 
the  way  that  you  imagine.  That  lion  was  reared  by  me. 
I  fed  him,  and  he  was  attached  to  me.  But  when  I 
fell  under  the  suspicion  of  being  a  Christian,  he  was 
taken  from  me,  with  all  my  other  effects,  was  sold,  and 
was  subsequently  purchased  for  the  amphitheatre.  But 
the  overseer  of  the  animals  for  the  arena  is  a  convert 
to  Christianity,  and  knowing  this  lion  to  have  been 
mine,  he  selected  him  for  that  purpose  from  the  rest. 
The  artifice  was  successful,  and  my  life  preserved." 
After  some  more  conversation  with  him,  we  parted,  as 
I  flattered  myself,  mutually  pleased.  He  invited  me 
to  come  often  to  see  him,  and  I  resolved  not  to  neglect 
the  opportunity. 

On  our  return  I  did  not  forget  to  ask  of  Julius  the 
explanation  he  had  promised  me.  He  readily  consent- 
ed. "  Lucilla,"  said  he,  "  is  a  Christian.  But  the 
danger  attending  the  acknowledgment  of  that  creed, 
fearful  as  it  is  to  all,  to  her  is  tremendous.  That  a 
Vestal,  a  priestess,  to  whom  so  much  is  entrusted,  and 
on  whom  in  consequence  such  singular  honors  and 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  69 

immunities  are  conferred,  should  become  an  apostate 
to  her  religion,  would  weigh  against  her  with  a  fearful 
force.  Her  precautions  against  detection,  too,  must 
necessarily  be  great.  Now,  you  must  know  that  Lu- 
cilla  is  not  the  only  Christian  Vestal.  Canuleia  is 
likewise  a  Christian  ;  and  about  a  furlong  from  the 
house  of  the  Vestals,  up  the  street,  there  dwells  a  Chris- 
tian family,  one  of  whose  members  lies  at  the  point  of 
death.  It  is  the  daughter  of  the  poor  man  whose  doom 
it  was  to  contend  with  the  elephant.  You  may  imag- 
ine how  much  she  must  need  consolation  and  sympa- 
thy ;  yet  how  dangerous  it  would  be  for  Lucilla  to  visit 
her  openly.  She  therefore  takes  advantage  of  the  time 
when  it  is  the  turn  of  the  other  Vestals  to  officiate  at 
the  temple,  and  only  Canuleia  and  herself  are  together 
at  the  house,  to  pass  a  few  moments  with  her  friend. 
But  it  must  not  be  repeated.  The  risk  is  too  great  for 
the  object.  Lucilla  told  rne  this  morning,  that  she 
thought  that  Matho  had  watched  her,  and  noted  where 
she  entered.  It  may  be  so,  but.  I  cannot  believe  it — or, 
if  he  did  so,  that  he  did  it  from  any  other  motive  than 
curiosity." 

"For  my  part,  Julius,"  I  replied,  "I  agree  with 
your  sister.  Hypocrisy  is  written  upon  every  line  about 
his  mouth,  and  appears  in  every  glance  from  his  eye." 

"  But  is  it  just,  Lucius,  to  condemn  a  man  for  his 
looks?  "Julius,"  said  I,  "I  will  not  enter  into  any 
argument  upon  the  subject ;  but,  this  I  will  say,  that  if 
the  gods  choose  to  write  '  knave'  or  '  fool,'  '  hypocrite' 
or  '  scoundrel,'  in  plain,  legible  characters  upon  a 
man's  brow,  it  is  no  fault  of  mine  that  I  cannot  look  at 
him  without  reading  itv" 


70  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

Meanwhile  time  passed  rapidly  on.  My  intercourse 
with  the  good  Vetullius  was  frequent ;  perhaps  not  the 
less  so,  that  I  often  met  there  the  fair  Vestal.  Her 
inquiries  and  remarks  showed  that  she  took  an  interest 
in  my  conversion,  that  flattered  me  not  a  little. 

The  doctrines  and  evidences  of  Christianity  began 
to  have  great  weight  on  rny  mind.  Day  after  day  did 
I  unroll  the  sacred  scroll,  with  new  and  increasing  de- 
light. The  earth  began  to  assume  a  different  hue  to 
my  mind,  because  my  mind  itself  was  changed  ;  and 
who  does  not  know  with  what  different  sentiments  we 
view  the  same  object,  under  different  states  of  feeling  ? 
Who  has  not  known  the  scene,  which  in  the  morning 
sunlight  was  gayly  beautiful,  look  solemn  and  serene 
in  the  quiet  moonlight,  and  monotonous  and  dull  in 
the  dim  twilight  1  The  mind  changes— objects  remain 
the  same. 

Blame  me  not,  I  say,  that  a  spice  of  earthly  love  quick- 
ened and  mingled  with  my  holiest  aspirations.  I  had 
known  bereavement,  and  Christianity  promised  me  re- 
union. Death,  the  horrid  spectre  whose  form  had  ever 
blackened  my  days  of  happiness  and  startled  my  dreams 
of  repose — death,  the  universal  conqueror — lay  conquer- 
ed here  beneath  the  victorious  spear  of  Christianity.  I 
doubted,  wished,  hoped,  trembled,  and  believed.  I 
became  a  Christian.  I  was  as  one  who,  after  groping  a 
lifetime  in  subterranean  caverns,  finds  himself  unex- 
pectedly emerged  into  the  broad,  bright,  warming  light 
of  the  noontide  sun.  The  nightmare  that  had  so  long 
weighed  down  my  soul  vanished  away.  Forms  of  light 
and  of  loveliness,  upon  which  I  had  long  looked  back  in 
all  the  bitterness  of  hopelessness,  as  among  the  illusions 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  71 

that  were,  I  could  now  joyfully  hail  as  among  the  reali- 
ties that  should  be.  I  had  been  as  one  launched  with 
a  few  loved  beings  upon  a  wintry,  interminable,  and 
shoreless  ocean,  who -had  seen,  one  after  another,  the 
loved  ones  drop  away,  helpless  and  hopeless,  into  the 
insatiable  waters.  What  mattered  it  to  me  whither  my 
bark  might  be  drifted  then  1  Clouds,  and  darkness,  and 
solitude  of  soul  were  every  where,  and  every  where  the 
same.  There  was  no  cynosure  to  me.  Suddenly,  as 
by  the  wand  of  an  enchanter,  my  bark  was  floating 
over  the  laughing  surface  of  a  summer  sea,  with  a 
glorious  haven  before  me,  on  whose  shores  stood  those 
whom  the  restless  ocean  had  swallowed,  beckoning  my 
homeward  approach.  Christianity  was  all  this  to  me. 
The  world  was  no  longer  only  one  vast  charnel-house, 
for  light  and  joy  had  sprung  out  of  darkness,  and  life 
out  of  death.  The  once  freezing,  chilly  monition,  that 
was  uttered  in  the  withering  herbage,  and  the  fading 
flower,  no  longer  declared  to  me,  "  Thou  too  shalt  die  " ; 
but  from  the  tongue  of  decay  and  of  death  was  uttef  ed 
forth  in  another  tone,  "  Thou  shalt  live  again."  There 
was  a  sentiment  of  exultation  in  the  smile  with  which 
I  now  gazed  upon  the  sculptured  galleys,  whose  anchor 
is  dropping  and  whose  sails  are  furling  on  the  sumptu- 
ous tombs  that  surrounded  our  dwelling,  for  I  thought, 
"  Your  rest  is  not  here.  It  is  from  hence  that  ye 
are  to  weigh  your  anchor  for  another  haven,  and 
stretch  your  sails  upon  another  and  a  shoreless  sea." 
There  was  no  longer  a  shadow  of  gloom  mingled  with 
the  tender  regret  with  which  I  looked  back  to  the  de- 
parted, as  I  gazed  on  the  funeral  urn — for  I  knew  that 
a  phenix  should  spring  from  the  ashes  within — that 


72  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

"life  " — "  eternal  life"  is  written  over  the  gates  of  the 
grave. 

Blame  me  not,  I  repeat,  if  while  listening  to  the 
instruction  of  the  venerable  Vetullius,  I  sometimes 
caught  my  glances  wandering  to  the  deep,  eloquent  eye 
of  the  Vestal,  as  she  drank  in  his  words,  or  if  I  some- 
times found  my  attention  occupied  with  another  sub- 
ject, than  that  which  occupied  Vetullius  and  engrossed 
Julius  and  Lucilla.  Blame  me  not,  I  say,  that  while 
the  door  of  my  heart  was  opened  for  devotion  and  reli- 
gion to  enter,  love  crept  in  unheeded  behind  them. 

At  the  house  of  an  unsuspected  Christian,  where  the 
Vestal  could  openly  and  fearlessly  visit,  was  Vetullius 
concealed  ;  and  here  we  were  wont  to  repair  at  sunset 
to  a  little  garden  connected  with  the  house,  and  seated 
on  the  turf  beneath  the  refreshing  shadow  of  a  broad 
ilex,  amid  the  perpetual  gush  of  fountains  that  played 
sparkling  around  us,  while  their  collected  waters  swept 
clamorously  by  the  foot  of  the  tree,  with  Lucilla's  lyre 
at  her  side,  as  if  we  were  occupied  with  music,  we 
listened  to  the  words  of  the  good  Vetullius. 

But  happiness  like  this  was  too  like  elysium  to  last. 
Never  shall  I  forget  the  last  time  of  our  meeting  there. 
It  was  the  magic  hour  of  sunset.  Vetullius  sat  on  the 
little  grass  platform  that  surrounded  the  trunk  of  the 
tree,  scarcely  less  venerable  than  himself,  beneath 
which  we  were  assembled.  At  his  left,  but  in  advance, 
sat  the  Vestal  on  the  fragment  of  a  broken  column, 
which  had  belonged  to  a  little  circular  Greek  temple, 
which  Tiad  stood  on  the  spot  at  the  side  of  the  river 
enshrining  a  beautiful  Harpocrates,  who  with  his  fin- 
ger on  his  lips,  still  seemed  to  say,  "Hush,"  to  the  group 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  73 

that  surrounded  it.  The  late  earthquake  had  over- 
thrown the  light  temple,  and  broken  its  fairy  columns ; 
yet,  by  one  of  those  accidents  that  sometimes  happens, 
the  statue  stood  uninjured.  It  was  upon  a  fragment  of 
one  of  these  columns  that  Lucilla  sat.  Her  lyre  stood  at 
her  side.  Her  left  hand  rested  carelessly  on  it,  while 
her  large,  full  eye  was  fixed  with  intense  interest  upon 
Vetullius,  her  lips  parted,  her  graceful  form  reclining 
against  the  portion  of  the  column  which  remained  up- 
right. At  the  base  of  the  statue  on  a  little  fragment  of 
a  pillar  that  he  had  himself  placed  there  upright  for 
the  purpose,  sat  Julius.  Reclining  on  his  elbow  as  he 
lay  comfortably  stretched  on  the  fresh  grass,  was  our 
worthy  host.  For  myself,  as  Lucilla  had  taken  the 
left  of  Vetullius,  I  took  his  right,  opposite  to 'her; 
where,  as  I  stood  with  folded  arms  leaning  against  a 
young  tree,  I  could  with  equal  facility  gaze  upon  the 
Vestal  or  Vetullius.  A  noble  dog,  belonging  to  our 
host,  took  his  station  at  my  feet,  who  soon  found  the 
same  effect  in  the  charms  of  sleep,  as  I  had  sometimes 
found  in  those  of  the  Vestal,  viz.  an  utter  inattention 
to  Vetullius.  Above  the  whole  group,  towered  the 
statue ;  and  as,  he  too  was  looking  toward  the  old  man, 
it  seemed  as  if  he  were  likewise  an  anxious  listener  to 
his  words — as  if  he  were  commanding  all  around  him 
to  be  silent,  that  he  might  profit  by  the  words  of  the 
Christian. 

Of  that  evening,  I  have  forgotten  not  a  syllable.  I 
have  treasured  it  all  within  my  heart  of  hearts.  The 
hymn  of  the  Vestal  had  ceased,  but  the  repose  of  na- 
ture remained  unbroken  by  our  voices.  All  seemed 
under  the  influence  of  the  magic  hour.  On  the  coun- 
7 


74  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

tenance  of  Vetullius  was  painted  the  grave  and  tem- 
pered delight  of  age,  as  he  gazed  on  the  fair  scenery 
around  him.  But  the  more  ardent  delight  of  Julius, 
that  deep-toned  enthusiast,  was  manifested  in  the 
change  from  his  ordinary  grave  and  sad  expression  of 
mild  and  thoughtful  reserve,  to  the  kindling  eye,  the 
glowing  cheek,  and  half  suppressed  impassioned  excla- 
mations of  delight. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  PLACID  smile  passed  for  a  moment  over  the  vener- 
able countenance  of  the  old  man,  as  he  quietly  observed 
the  vivid  and  eloquent  expression  that  lighted  the  high 
brow  of  the  youth  ;  but  his  feelings  were  apparently 
too  powerful  for  silence,  and  his  ecstacy  broke  forth  in 
words. 

"  How  bright,  how  glorious,  is  nature  ; "  said  the 
delighted  boy,  "  and  how  more  than  glorious  is  man, 
for  whom  all  this  gorgeous  scenery  is  arrayed  !  Lord 
over  all,  to  him  the  horse  lends  his  swiftness,  the  ele- 
phant his  strength,  and  the  dog  his  fidelity  and  zeal. 
For  him  the  trees  bear  their  fruits,  and  the  waters  their 
freshness.  The  strength  of  the  strong,  and  the  fero- 
city of  the  fierce,  are  weakness  and  impotence  before 
the  mightier  strength  of  his  wisdom.  From  his  power 
the  regal  eagle  finds  no  refuge  in  his  clouds,  nor 
the  whale  in  the  depths  of  his  waters.  To  him  the 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  75 

forest  gives  up  its  inhabitants,  and  the  bowels  of  the 
earth  yield  their  uncounted  gold.  Man  is  every  where, 
and  every  where  triumphant — God's  vicegerent  below. 
How  great  must  he  be,  for  whom  all  this  goodly  work- 
manship has  been  framed  ?  "  As  Julius  uttered  these 
words,  he  encountered  the  eye  of  Vetullius,  bent 
upon  him  with  an  expression  of  benevolent  inter- 
est, but  of  no  sympathy  with  the  youthful  ardor  of  his 
companion.  He  knew  not  why,  but  he  felt  that  look  a 
rebuke  ;  and  he  blushed,  and  faltered,  and  stopped. 

"  My  son,"  said  the  old  man,  "  man  is  great,  but  God 
is  greater.  Where  do  you  learn  that  all  these  fair  cre- 
ations are  but  ministering  servants  to  this  self-styled 
vicegerent  1  I  know,  indeed,  that  they  who  are  accus- 
tomed so  to  consider  it,  esteem  the  extension  of  this 
benevolence  to  what  we  proudly  consider  as  insignifi- 
cant objects,  to  be  a  limitation  of  it  as  regards  them- 
selves. Hear  me. 

"  On  the  banks  of  a  beautiful  river  stood  a  gigantic 
elm,*  whose  venerable  date  was  not  of  years,  but  of 
centuries.  Its  majestic  branches  rose  proudly  from  the 
trunk,  and  with  a  graceful  curve  swept  downward 
again,  till  their  long,  slender  extremities  dipped  into 
the  waters  at  its  foot,  causing  a  gentle  ripple  in  the 
else  quiet  stream.  Year  after  year  came  the  golden- 
winged  trochilus,  and  the  bird  of  paradise,  to  sport  in 

*  In  speaking  of  the  elm,  I  have  described  the  Ulmus  Ameri- 
cana, that  queen  of  our  forests,  distinguished  from  the  European  by 
its  long  pendulous  branches.  It  loses  its  leaves  some  weeks 
sooner  in  the  fall — its  flowers  have  from  six  to  eight  stamens, 
instead  of  five,  and  its  leaves  are  more  smooth  and  more  uniformly 
serrated. 


76  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

its  branches,  build  their  nests  among  its  foliage,  and 
repose  in  the  green  shelter  of  its  leaves.  Beneath 
its  protecting  shade  sprung  up  a  beautiful  magnolia, 
holding  up  its  broad,  green  leaves,  and  exhaling  a  deli- 
cious odor  from  the  long  bell  of  its  white  blossoms. 
The  green  bank  beneath  it  was  sprinkled  with  a  thou- 
sand flowers — the  variegated  anemone,  the  lowly  vio- 
let, and  the  queen-like  rose.  Thither,  amid  the  odor 
of  blossoms,  the  song  of  birds,  and  the  ripple  of  waters, 
came  lovers  at  the  twilight  hour,  to  breathe  their  vows 
and  their  sighs  beneath  its  shade,  to  carve  their  names 
on  its  trunk,  and  hang  there  garlands  of  fresh  flowers 
as  on  an  altar.  But  twilight  darkened  into  evening — 
the  lovers  departed,  and  the  garlands  withered.  The 
birds  folded  their  wings  and  hushed  their  voices.  The 
flowers  shut  their  bells,  and  hung  down  their  heads  as 
in  sorrow,  while  the  damp  dews  collected  upon  them, 
as  they  fell  drop  by  drop  upon  their  fairy  cups,  glanced 
thence,  and  fell  back  to  the  earth,  again  to  rise  in 
vapor  and  descend  in  dew.  But  the  change  in  the 
external  scenery  came  but  as  a  change  of  beauty. 
The  breath  of  God's  spirit  was  altered,  but  it  was  still 
divine.  Silence  came  with  darkness.  The  ripple  that 
during  the  day  was  an  almost  inaudible  murmur  seem- 
ed in  the  deepening  silence,  as  the  voice  of  many  wa- 
ters. Suddenly  the  moon  came  slowly  wheeling  her 
silvery  disk  up  the  horizon.  Through  the  silent  and 
golden  hours,  the  nightingale  came  wooing  and  sing- 
ing to  his  beloved  rose,  as  she  hung  breathing  around 
her  unheeded  fragrance,  beneath  the  shadow  of  the 
elm.  The  plaintive  note  of  the  whip-poor-will  resound- 
ed from  time  to  time  from  amid  the  flowers  at  its  foot. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  77 

Ten  thousand  glittering  lamps  of  the  fire-fly,  sparkled 
and  vanished  amid  its  branches.  The  chirp  of  the 
cricket  was  heard,  mingling  with  voices  of  a  thousand 
different  intonations,  that  .rose  from  every  part  of  the 
river.  From  time  to  time,  the  dreamy  air  seemed  to 
revive  for  an  instant,  to  emit  languidly  a  breath  heavy 
with  its  load  of  fragrance  and  music  ;  and  then,  as  if 
exhausted  by  the  effort,  to  subside  again  into  a  repose 
befitting  this  sabbath  of  nature.  '  How  good  is  God,' 
said  the  exulting  elm,  '  who  has  created  so  many  beau- 
ties for  my  use  and  enjoyment ;  and  how  noble  a  being 
must  I  be,  to  have  such  varied  and  exhaustless  crea- 
tions for  iny  good.  For  me  the  birds  sing,  and  the 
flowers  blossom.  He  clothes  me  in  my  robes  of  beauty 
— His  moon-beams  are  sent  to  lend  with  their  silvery 
brightness  an  unutterable  beauty  to  my  exalted  perfec- 
tions. Benevolent  as  happy,  I  protect  the  birds  of 
heaven  and  the  beasts  of  the  field,  in  and  beneath  my 
branches.  To  the  lowlier  species  of  vegetation  I  accord 
my  patronage,  and  spread  over  them  the  giant  arms  of 
my  protection.  Man  bows  before  me  in  astonishment 
and  delight.  In  the  sunshine  he  seeks  my  refreshing 
shelter,  and  in  the  shower  he  still  finds  my  ever  benev- 
olent protection.' 

"  Year  after  year  passed  away.  There  came  one  even- 
ing a  hoary-hedded  old  man  leaning  upon  a  youth,  and 
they  seated  themselves  upon  the  ever  flowery  bank 
beneath  the  elm.  '  What  a  glorious  creation,'  said 
the  happy  boy,  as  his  young  black  eye  flashed  proudly 
upon  the  noble  scenery  around  him.  '  Thank  God,' 
replied  the  old  man ;  '  who  has  made  it  all  rich  in  its 
exulting  beauty  and  glory  for  man  alone.  He  has 
.  7* 


78  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

placed  him  here  in  a  vast  storehouse,  replete  with  all 
necessary  and  useful  and  glorious  things,  and  has 
given  him  dominion  over  all.  The  rose-tree  puts  forth 
its  leaves,  and  the  summer  its  foliage,  and  the  autumn 
its  fruits,  only  for  his  enjoyment  and  happiness.  For 
him  the  birds  sing,  and  the  fountains  flow,  the  bee 
labors,  and  the.  silkworm  toils.  For  him  the  clouds 
are  painted  in  all  the  gorgeous  hues  of  sunset,  and  na- 
ture is  ever  changing  her  garments  of  beauty,  her 
beauty  only  being  for  ever  unchanged.  Observe  my 
child  the  noble  tree  beneath  which  we  sit.  I  am  an 
old  man  ;  but  compare  my  years  with  the  years  of  this 
elm,  and  I  am  but  as  an  infant.  For  it,  generation 
has  followed  generation,  as  leaf  follows  leaf.  Its  own- 
ers, like  us,  come  to  sit  beneath  its  shadow,  and  to 
boast  of  their  venerable  possession,  yet  hath  it  changed 
them  almost  as  often  as  it  hath  changed  its  leaves. 
Thank  God  then  my  son,  who  hath  created  you  such  a 
glorious  being.'  So  they  knelt  together  upon  the  fra- 
grant turf — the  hoary  hairs  side  by  side  with  the  curl- 
ing clusters  of  that  fair  boy's  young  locks,  and  blend- 
ed their  gratitude  and  praise  with  the  odor  of  flowers, 
and  the  song  of  birds,  and  the  mingling  burst  that 
swelled  from  tree,  and  flower,  and  fountain,  and  turf — 
from  the  roaring  ocean,  and  the  rustling  leaf,  and  it 
rose  to  heaven  with  theirs  as  acceptable  and — as 
vain.* 

"Time  flows  ever  onward.     The  venerable  elm  still 

*  The  word  vain  is  here  to  be  understood  in  the  sense  of  con- 
ceit or  vanity,  and  not  of  fruitlessness.  The  author  would  not 
wish  to  be  understood  as  putting  on  an  equality,  the  gratitude  of 
intelligent,  and  the  attributes  of  physical  nature. 


TALE  of  POMPEII.  79 

stood  erect  in  its  strength,  and  glowing  in  its  beauty — 
but  an  unusual  agitation  seemed  to  exist  in  its  branches. 
At  times  they   were    violently  shaken,   and   its  large 
boughs  waved  steadily  up  and  down  as  if  swayed  by 
the  hand  of  a  giant.     A  huge  black  column  was  seen 
to  dart  into  the  air,  high  above  its  topmost  boughs — a 
straight  and  lofty  pillar — then  again  with  a  graceful 
swan-like  neck,   and  head  gently  depressed,  seemed 
reconnoitering  the  far  space  around  it — and    again, 
with  a  graceful  undulatory  motion,  it  vanished  from  its 
height,  and  the  next  moment  was  seen  hanging  as  if 
lifeless  from  its  lowest  bough.     The  huge  trunk  of  the 
elm  was  seen  to  rock  like  a  sapling  in  the  school-boy's 
hand.    The  affrighted  beasts  fled  in  dismay — the  birds 
with  loud  screamings  flew  shrieking  from  the  place. 
Wrapt  in  the  rich  communings  of  their  own  hearts,  two 
only  were  seen  approaching.     They  were  lovers.     Ev- 
ery sign  of  life  and  of  movement  vanished  at  once  from 
the  graceful  tree.     Slowly  and  thoughtfully  the  fated 
pair  approached.     They  were  pouring  out  the  fulness 
of  their  hearts  into  each  others  ears.     They  dreamed 
not   of  unhappiness — why    should  they  ? — they    were 
together.     They  sought  the  beautiful  vicinage  of  the 
elm  by  a  sort  of  instinctive  wandering.     Arm  in  arm, 
earth  to  them  was  an  Eden  wherever  they  wandered. 
Alas  !  it  was  not  only  in  Eden  that  the  serpent  basked 
in  bowers  of  beauty.  Nearer  and  nearer  they  approach- 
ed the  treacherous  spot.     Suddenly  there  was  a  rush- 
ing noise — a  huge  black  body  was  launched  from  the 
tree,  and  in  an  instant  they  were  bound  in  the  mortal 
folds  of  the  anaconda.     But  nature's  agony  could  en- 
dure but  for  a  moment.     With  an  instinctive  effort, 


80  'TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

the  youth  threw  his  arms  aroUnd  the  beloved  object, 
as  if  to  shield  her  from  their  foe  ;  then  perished  in 
his  embrace — and  the  crushing  bones  were  heard  to 
crackle  for  an  instant,  like  corn  beneath  the  mill-stone. 
'  How  good  is  God  ' ;  said  the  mighty  serpent,  as  the 
bodies  fell,  still  locked  together,  from  his  relaxed  folds  ; 
'  how  bountiful  is  He,,  who  hath  made  such  goodly 
trees  for  my  dwelling,  who  hath  surrounded  them  with 
flowers  and  fragrance,  and  who  hath  stocked  this  earth 
with  its  inhabitants,  as  food  convenient  for  me.'  But 
man  allows  no  other  tyrant  than  himself;  and  gorged 
with  his  prey,  the  monster  fell  an  easy  victim  to  that 
arch-destroyer. 

"  Swiftly  speed  the  flying  years.  When  the  breath  of 
spring  was  playing  amid  the  leaves  and  the  blossoms,  a 
humming-bird  came  poising  himselfon  glittering  wings, 
as  he  reconnoitered  the  peaceful  and  beautiful  tree. 
There  he  fixed  his  habitation,  and  built  his  nutlike 
nest.  Its  tiny  inhabitants  were  soon  clothed  in  their 
beautiful  dress,  and  fluttering  on  fairy  pinions,  were 
conducted  triumphantly  away  by  their  exulting  parents, 
to  enjoy  elsewhere  their  dreamy  and  independent  ex- 
istence. And  as  they  wheeled  sparkling  away  on 
untried  wings,  '  How  good  is  God,'  said  the  beautiful 
birds,  '  who  hath  made  this  fair  creation  for  our  use  ; 
who  hath  planted  trees  that  we  may  build  in  their 
branches,  and  flowers  that  we  may  Jive  in  their  odor, 
and  sunshine  that  we  may  sport  in  its  beams,  and  sum- 
mer that  we  may  live  in  its  spicy  breath.'  But  a  hawk 
spied  from  his  height  the  gentle  birds,  and  stooped, 
and  ended  in  an  instant  their  gratitude  and  their 
lives  ; — and  he  too  thanked  God  for  his  wise  and  mer- 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  81 

ciful  creations  for  his  use.  Yet  as  the  proud  bird  rose 
again,  there  came  a  messenger  swifter  than  his  own 
wing,  and  he  too  fell  fluttering  and  lifeless  to  the  earth. 

"  Again  the  breath  of  summer  came  floating  over 
the  beds  of  the  violets,  wafting  lazily  along  the  spicy 
breath  of  the  orange  blossom,  and  the  magnolia  flower, 
to,  mingle  their  odors  with  those  of  a  rose-tree  that 
flourished  under  the  protecting  shadow  of  the  elm. 
There  it  put  forth  its  buds,  which  opened  their  fra- 
grant bosoms  to  the  lay  of  the  nightingale,  protected 
by  the  overshadowing  branches  from  the  scorching 
sun,  and  the  too  violent  showers  ;  and  in  the  pride  of 
its  beauty,  and  the  fulness  of  its  happiness,  boasted  of 
the  exclusive  providence  of  God  for  the  necessities  of 
its  nature,  who  had  provided  man  to  cultivate  it,  and 
-  trees  to  protect  it,  and  showers  and  sunshine  to  cherish 
it,  and  birds  to  sing  to  it.  But  ere  the  voice  of  its 
pride  was  yet  silent,  the  destroyer  came,  hanging  in- 
clusters  upon  its  damask  leaves,  and  revelling  unre- 
buked  in  its  beauties  ; — and  when  these  fair  things  had 
resigned  their  frail  existence,  '  How  good  is  God,'  said 
the  destroying  insects,  '  who  for  us  hath  planted  the 
rose,  and  given  it  its  pleasant  perfume.  How  good  is 
God  !  and  what  important  beings  must  we  be  to  have 
so  much,  and  so  much  beauty  provided  for  us.' 

"  Time  flies  not  in  vain  over  any.  The  heart-wood 
of  the  venerable  tree  had  felt  its  influence.  Its  vessels 
no  longer  carried  it  nutriment ;  it  shrivelled,  and  rotted, 
and  at  last  crumbled  into  dust,  and  the  trunk  was  now 
only  a  vast  and  hollow  cylinder.  In  this  hollow  a 
swarm  of  bees  took  up  their  residence,  and  made  in  it 
their  rich  cells.  '  How  good  is  God,'  said  the  indus*- 


82  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

trious  insects,  as  their  summer  task  was  ended,  '  who 
hath  created  all  for  our  sole  use  ; — trees  for  our  habita- 
tion and  blossoms  to  yield  us  their  honey.  The  rain 
descends,  and  summer  opens,  and  man  is  sent  us,  only 
to  nurture  our  necessary  flowers  and  destroy  our  ene- 
mies, the  birds  ; — winter  comes  to  give  us  rest  from  our 
toils,  and  time  to  enjoy  the  fruits  we  have  so  industri- 
ously collected.  Can  man,  with  all  his  machinery, 
rival,  or  even  in  any  degree  imitate  our  skill  ?  What 
important  beings  then  must  we  be,  on  whom  such 
knowledge  and  art  is  bestowed.' 

"  But  another  season  came  with  its  changes.  A  large, 
unsightly  grub-worm  was  seen  slowly  dragging  its 
slimy  trail  along  the  trunk  and  boughs  of  the  elm. 
There  it  selected  a  spot  in  a  fork  of  the  tree,  and  fas- 
tening itself  to  it,  resigned  itself  to  the  common  law  of 
its  nature ;  and  there  this  low  reptile  slept  quietly  in 
its  leafy  asylum,  amid  the  high  creations  of  God.  Yet 
was  its  sleep  not  eternal.  Again  it  came  forth  in  its 
new  state  of  being,  the  ancients'  beautiful  image  of  the 
soul,  a  bright  and  glorious  thing,  emerged  from  the 
sleep  of  death ;  and  as  it  sailed  proudly  away  on  its 
beautiful  wings,  '  How  good  is  God,'  exclaimed  the 
delighted  insect,  '  who  hath  made  for  me,  this  beautiful 
world  ;  who  for  me  hath  painted  the  hare-bell  and  the 
violet,  and  scented  the  lily  and  the  rose  ; — who  hath 
made  my  bed  in  the  tulip's  bell,  and  hath  sent  there 
the  sweet  breath  of  his  zephyrs  to  rock  me  to  my  re- 
pose. How  good,  how  merciful  is  God.' 

"  But  the  quiet  repose  of  nature  could  not  last  for  ever. 
Clouds  began  to  gather  and  darken  above  the  stately 
tree.  The  windows  of  heaven  were  opened.  The 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  83 

voice  of  the  bellowing  thunder  roared  through  the 
skies.  The  lofty  head  of  the  elm  was  reared  high 
above  all  the  neighbouring  objects.  The  deep  black 
cloud  lay  heavy  above  it.  Suddenly  a  sheet  of  fire 
burst  from  its  opening  bosom,  and  descended  full  upon 
the  majestic  tree.  In  a  moment,  the  air  was  darkened 
with  sticks  and  splinters  from  its  venerable  branches, 
flying  far  and  wide  in  every  direction.  Its  verdant 
foliage  shrivelled  and  withered  in  an  instant,  as  be- 
neath the  touch  of  an  enchanter.  Yet  the  noble  tree 
fell  not. 

"  Time  that  destroys  all,  also  heals  all ;  and  the  migh- 
ty tree  again  reared  its  head  in  the  quiet  sky  ;  in  all  its 
natural  verdure  and  majesty.  The  busy  spider  wove 
his  web  in  its  branches — the  smaller  animals  burrowed 
beneath  its  root — the  butterfly  slept  out  his  mysterious 
changes  upon  its  boughs,  and  came  thence  floating  on 
gorgeous  wings,  another  and  a  higher  creature — the 
.industrious  bees  were  again  busy  in  its  trunk,  and  the 
beautiful  birds  in  its  branches.  But  another  charm  was 
now  added  to  its  beauty — it  had  seen  centuries  and  it 
was  venerable — but  it  had  been  riven  by  the  lightning, 
and  it  was  sacred.*  '  Am  I  not  strong,'  said  the 
proud  tree,  '  when  even  the  bolt  of  heaven  hath  but 
shivered  my  topmost  boughs,  while  I  was  still  able  to 
protect  the  myriads  who  had  sought  the  shelter  of  my 
power  1  Powerful  indeed  must  that  be  which  can  lay 
me  in  the  dust ;  me — whom  years  have  sapped,  and 
storms  have  rocked,  and  lightning  hath  shivered  in 
vain.'  But  even  in  that  moment  came  the  destroyer. 

*  With  the  ancients,  whatever  object  was  struck  by  lightning, 
was  from  that  moment  sacred. 


84  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

Myriads  on  myriads  of  worms,  almost  too  minute  for 
the  unassisted  sight  to  discover,  had  taken  possession 
of  its  gigantic  trunk.  Despising  the  tender  bark,  they 
sought  their  nourishment  from  the  more  solid  wood. 
Day  by  day,  and  hour  by  hour,  the  boasted  strength  of 
the  stately  tree  withered  away.  The  cloud  flashed  not 
— not  even  the  rustling  summer  breeze  lifted  a  leaf  in 
its  branches — the  moon  looked  placidly  on  the  long 
admired  scenery — nature  slept  in  her  sweetest  and 
softest  repose,  when  the  graceful  elm  fell — in  the 
silence  of  evening  it  fell — and  its  beautiful  ruins  crush- 
ed and  destroyed  all  that  had  derived  shelter  from  its 
existence — and  its  destroyers  in  their  turn  thanked 
God,  who  for  them  had  formed  creations  of  glory  and 
strength,  and  had  bestowed  on  them  the  power,  insig- 
nificant and  mean  as  they  were,  to  lay  low  the  loftiest ; 
and  they  too  reasoned  from  God's  goodness  to  their 
own  importance,  and  upon  their  boast  and  their  reason- 
ing, was  also  written — vanity." 

The  old  man  paused. 

"  Father,"  said  Julius,  "  methinks  your  instructions 
tend  to  weaken  our  sentiments  of  gratitude  to  the  great 
Parent  of  all." 

"  Not  so  my  son,"  returned  the  old  man.  "  Is  God's 
mercy  to  us  less,  because  it  is  equally  extended  to  my- 
riads on  myriads  of  beings,  whom  we  proudly  term 
insignificant  ?  Does  increased  power  call  for  diminish- 
ed gratitude  ?  Does  that  state,  in  which  each  finds  all 
as  perfectly  adapted  to  suit  his  particular  purposes,  as 
if  all  were  actually  created  for  the  sole  benefit  of  his 
species,  demand  less  gratitude  than  if  all  were  created 
for  the  happiness  of  one  ?  Shall  we  pettishly  withhold 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  95 

our  gratitude  to  the  great  Giver  for  his  blessings  to  us, 
because  he  has  thought  proper  to  bless  other  beings 
than  ourselves  ?  Is  our  happiness  diminished,  because 
others  are  made  happy  1  Or  do  we  fear  to  be  overlook- 
ed or  forgotten  amid  the  immensity  of  God's  universal 
family,  by  Him  who  '  hath  numbered  the  sands  on  the 
sea-shore  ? '  Away  then  with  the  ludicrous  vanity 
with  which  man  is  eternally  boasting  of  his  own  vast 
importance  in  the  infinite  scale  of  God's  works,  nor 
longer  utter  that  proud  boast,  alike  unsupported  by  His 
works  and  word,  and  which  may  be  echoed  as  proudly 
by  every  being  in  the  vast  creation,  down  to  the  very 
earth-worm  that  fattens  upon  his  corpse.  '  Are  not 
two  sparrows  sold  for  a  farthing,  and  yet  I  say  unto 
you  that  not  one  of  them  is  forgotten  before  God.' 
Cease  to  reason  from  God's  omniscience  to  human 
wisdom,  or  from  God's  benevolence  to  human  pride, 
and  to  make  his  goodness  the  measure  of  our  vanity. 
How  many  birds  skim  the  air  that  human  eye  never 
saw  1  How  many  beasts  inhabit  the  forest  that  human 
hand  hath  never  taken  ?  Myriads  and  myriads  of  in- 
sects swarm  in  the  air,  too  minute  for  human  optics 
to  discern  ;  and  they  too  in  their  turn  are  perhaps 
sustained  by  and  sustain  others,  as  much  smaller  than 
themselves,  as  they  are  than  we. 

"  Man  is  but  a  solitary  link  in  the  infinite  chain  of 
God's  creation.  And  as  we  know  how  wonderfully 
that  chain  extends  downward,  in  each  descending  step, 
body  more  and  more  predominating  over  mind,  analogy 
renders  it  in  the  highest  degree  improbable  that  the 
chain  is  abruptly  broken  with  man — that  the  ascend- 
ing links  are  wanting— that  the  vast  space  between 
8 


86  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

God  and  man  is  a  vast  blank ; — and  as  with  man,  mind 
has  probably  arrived  at  the  highest  degree  of  perfection 
and  ascendancy  possible,  while  connected  with  matter, 
its  next  step  would  naturally  lead  to  a  state  purely 
spiritual,  whose  constant  tendency  is  toward  the  Divine 
perfections.  It  is  a  beautiful  theory,  and  surely  beau- 
tifully consistent  with  the  benevolence  of  God's  char- 
acter, to  believe  that  the  whole  creation  is  thus  tending 
upward  toward  Him  ;  that  from  the  lowest  and  the 
meanest  insect  upwards,  each  remove  by  death  is  but 
a  step  advanced  in  this  grand  scale  of  Omnipotence, — 
that  the  loved  and  the  lost  from  their  unseen  state,  are 
yet  permitted  to  watch  around  our  earthly  steps,  and, 
unseen  and  unheard,  to  sympathize  in  our  earthly  en- 
joyments and  sufferings." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

As  the  old  man  concluded,  he  arose  ;  and  we  all 
followed  his  example — for  the  broad  brightness  of  the 
full  moon,  and  the  deep  shado.ws  that  the  tree  and  the 
broken  columns  threw  around  them,  warned  us  that 
night  was  already  upon  us.  For  myself  I  stepped  forth 
into  the  street  of  tombs,  and  as  I  strolled  leisurely 
along,  I  met  the  good-natured  Marcus.  But  his  broad 
countenance  wore  an  expression  of  anxiety,  that  with 
him  was  indeed  unusual. 

"I  have  been  seeking  you,"  said  he  earnestly,  "my 
young  friend,  to  warn  you  that  peril  is  about  you.  Its 
extent  and  nature  you  yourself  best  know.  A  rumor 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  87 

is  abroad  that  all  is  not  right  among  the  Vestals.  A 
whisper  is  in  circulation,  that  the  Vestal  rites  are  per- 
formed by  those  who  have  little  claim  to  the  honor. 
Fame  as  yet  fixes  upon  no  particular  one  as  the  crimi- 
nal ;  but  the  man,  it  is  distinctly  reported,  who  is  the 
partner  of  the  crime,  is  yourself.  You,  it  is  said,  have 
turned  Christian  ;  you  attend  their  nightly,  secret  and 
mysterious  rites  ;  nay,  you  have  been  dogged  when  in 
company  with  a  Vestal,  at  an  hour  when  there  could 
have  been  but  one  object  in  •  your  meeting,  and  the 
Vestal  was  seen  to  enter  their  house.  How  far  you  are 
or  are  not  guilty,  you  best  know  ;  but  the  extent  of  the 
peril  to  yourself,  guilty  or  not,  is  tremendous." 

Alarmed  at  these  remarks  I  instantly  returned 
to  the  house  I  had  just  left,  to  consult  with  Vetullius 
upon  what  was  most  proper  to  be  done.  Instant 
flight  would  have  seemed  the  most  obvious  recourse  ; 
but  this  was  at  length  abandoned,  and  it  was  resolved 
that  I  should  remain  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 
Flight  would  not  only  instantly  establish  my  guilt,  but 
might  involve  the  fair  Lucilla  in  my  own  destruction, 
for  I  could  not  doubt  that  it  was  she  at  whom  the  ru- 
mor pointed.  Julius  meantime  joined  our  council, 
having  been  informed  by  Marcus  of  the  strait  I  was  in. 
His  opinion  coincided  with  ours.  It  was  then  agreed 
that  in  consequence  of  the  peril  and  persecution  of  the 
Christians,  the  services  should  be  discontinued  in  the 
cavern  before  mentioned.  The  entrance  was  blocked 
up,  and  the  stone  that  opened  from  the  tomb  was 
cemented  to  the  wall.  Julius  then  took  me  by  another 
passage,  and  one  known  only  to  Vetullius  and  himself, 
into  this  cavern.  Connected  with  it,  were  several 


88  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

Other  winding  passages,  which  had  been  entirely  un- 
known to  the  assembly  that  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
worshipping  there.  Thus  possessed  of  the  secret  of 
admittance,  I  was  to  avail  myself  of  it  whenever  affairs 
should  seem  to  have  become  so  desperate  as  to  render 
it  necessary. 

Meantime  the  situation  of  Lucilla  occupied  all  my 
thoughts.  What  could  have  been  the  cause  of  this 
unexpected  disaster,  I  was  at  a  loss  to  conjecture.  I 
would  have  given  worlds  to  see  her,  if  but  for  a 
moment.  I  asked  Julius  if  it  were  possible.  He  as- 
sured me  that  it  was  not ; — indeed  none  but  a  mad 
man  would  have  dreamed  of  it — but  who  is  wise  in 
love? 

"  It  is  Lucilla's  turn  to  watch  the  sacred  fire  to-night 
in  the  temple,"  said  Julius  ;  "  of  course  there  could  not 
be  a  more  unpropitious  time  for  the  purpose.  Be- 
sides," added  he,  "  I  see  no  possible  advantage  to  be 
obtained  by  an  interview  ;  but  on  the  contrary,  the 
most  formidable  perils."  He  suspected  not  that  motive, 
the  most  powerful  that  ever  actuates  the  human  mind. 
Even  I,  while  I  felt  its  power,  knew  not  its  terrible 
strength.  I  parted  with  Julius  at  my  father's  door, 
which  I  entered  with  the  consciousness  of  a  culprit. 
I  imagined  all  eyes  to  be  fixed  upon  me.  But  my 
father,  as  usual  on  such  occasions,  was  the  last  to  hear 
of  the  report.  As  yet  he  was  ignorant  of  it. 

Darkness  closed  around ;  and  when  I  arose  from 
my  tctc-d-tete  supper  with  my  father,.!  retired  to  my 
chamber.  But  vain  were  all  efforts  at  sleep,  and  after 
tossing  in  feverish  restlessness,  I  at  length  arose  and 
went  into  the  street,  to  try  if  the  fresh  night  air  would 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  89 

lull  my  restlessness ;  as  if  a  breeze  would  allay  the 
tumult  of  a  troubled  spirit,  or  restlessness  be  assuaged 
by  avoiding  repose.  I  had  certainly  no  definite  object 
in  my  mind  ;  yet  there  was  a  feeling  half  latent,  which 
guided  my  footsteps  to  the  temple  of  Vesta,28  that  I 
might  gaze  once  more  upon  the  building  that  contained 
Lucilla.  The  little  temple  of  Vesta  was  situated  near 
the  house  of  the  Vestals.  The  roof,  projecting  con- 
siderably beyond  the  walls  of  the  cella,  circular  as 
usual,  was  supported  by  nineteen  Corinthian  columns 
of  white  marble,  which  thus  formed  a  circular,  covered 
portico  around  the  temple. 

Arrived  there  I  gently  ascended  the  steps  of  the 
portico,  and  endeavoured  to  catch,  through  the  chinks 
of  the  door,  even  a  glimpse  of  the  light  of  that 
flame  which  Lucilla  was  watching.  I  stationed 
myself  at  the  door  to  listen  if  I  could  hear  any  indica- 
tion of  life.  A  low  cough  assured  me  that  Lucilla  was 
within.  I  put  my  hand  to  the  door  to  open  it,  but 
recollection  of  the  peril  in  which  we  should  both  be 
involved,  should  I  attempt  it  and  be  discovered,  restrain- 
ed me.  Yet  I  listened  with  beating  heart  and  throb- 
bing temples,  if  I  could  again  hear  aught  within. 
Again  1  beared  a  deep  drawn  sigh,  and  earnestly 
pressing  against  the  door  to  hear  more  distinctly,  it 
yielded,  and  opened ;  but  so  softly,  and  so  deeply  in- 
volved in  her  own  reflections  was  Lucilla,  that  she 
heard  it  not. 

In  a  niche  over  the  altar,  was  the  statue  of  the  god- 
dess ; 29  and  upon  the  altar  at  her  feet,  in  a  broad, 
shallow  lamp  or  vessel,  burned  the  sacred  fire.  At  the 
foot  of  the  altar  stood  the  beautiful  Vestal,  her  head 
8* 


90  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

supported  by  her  hand  as  she  leaned  gracefully  upon 
the  altar,  wrapped  in  deep  thought,  every  line  of  her 
countenance  stamped  with  serious  meditation  distinctly 
marked  by  the  broad  blaze  from  the  sacred  fire,  which 
as  it  flared  with  an  unsteady  light,  displayed  at  times 
the  transparent  fingers,  the  long  black  eyelashes,  and 
large  thoughtful  eye,  with  vivid  brightness.  From  her 
left  hand  depended  a  crucifix,  the  gift  of  Vetullius. 
It  was  a  scene  alike  for  a  painter  or  a  lover.  I  stood 
fascinated,  wishing  but  unable  to  depart,  as  I  gazed  on 
the  beautiful  girl.  But  what  lover,  especially  under 
circumstances  like  mine,  would  not  have,  alike  forgot- 
ten danger  and  prudence.  Reason  indeed  might  have 
whispered  me  to  depart,  but  hers  is  a  still  small  voice, 
and  when  was  it  ever  conqueror  against  the  deep 
pleadings  of  love  ? 

"  Lucilla  !  "  I  ejaculated. 

So  deep  were  her  meditations,  that  like  a  person 
waking  from  a  sound  sleep,  she  seemed  not  at  first 
conscious  of  any  thing,  unless  that  those  meditations 
were  interrupted.  But  when  she  recollected  herself, 
and  knew  me,  her  countenance  became  crimson. 

"  Imprudent  being,"  she  exclaimed,  "  what  can 
have  brought  you  here  ?  Is  not  danger  already  deep 
enough  around  us  that  you  thus  court  destruction  ?  " 

"  Danger  !  "  I  exclaimed,  and  half  beside  myself,  [ 
seized  her  hand,  and  uttered — I  know  not  what — I 
know  only  that  it  was  love — deep,  burning,  passionate 
love. 

Lucilla  heard  me  in  silence  ;  and  when  I  at  length 
paused,  "  I  will  not  say,"  she  replied,  "  what,  under 
other  auspices  might  have  been  my  answer ;  enough 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  91 

that  under  our  present  circumstances,  hope  and  love 
are  illusions  indeed.  Faith  in  God  is  all  that  we  can 
claim  without  a  doubt  or  a  misgiving." 

I  represented,  as  forcibly  as  I  was  able,  the  peril  in 
which  we  now  stood  ;  and  earnestly  implored  her  to 
fly  with  me,  north,  south,  any  where,  where  we  might 
live  in  the  free  exercise  of  that  religion  for  which  we 
were  now  likely  to  sacrifice  all.  I  even  touched  upon 
the  impiety  of  her  continuing  the  professed  priestess  of 
an  idol,  who  had  once  acknowledged  the  true  God. 
She  acknowledged  the  truth  of  the  remark  ;  and  that 
she  was  even  then  making  preparation  to  leave  the 
city  secretly  with  Julius — that  meantime,  she  continued 
the  performance  of  the  sacred  rites  to  avoid  suspicion, 
and  to  spare  her  friends  as  much  as  possible  in  the 
painful  step  that  she  felt  compelled  to  take.  "  But  he," 
she  added,  "  who  loveth  father  or  mother  more  than 
me  is  not  worthy  of  me."  She  then  told  me  what  I 
was  hardly  surprised  to  hear,  that  Matho  had  known 
her  the  night  of  our  accidental  meeting,  and  that  he 
had  had  the  boldness  to  speak  to  her  of  his  shameless 
love;  threatening  her  at  the  same  time,  in  case  of  re- 
fusal, with  all  the  horrors  of  violated  Vestal  vows  and 
blasted  reputation.  "  For  you,"  she  added,  "  he  will 
crush  you  from  mere  suspicion ;  therefore  be  on  your 
guard." 

It  will  be  readily  supposed  that  knowing  all  these 
circumstances,  I  redoubled  my  solicitations  to  be  per- 
mitted to  become  the  companion  of  her  flight,  with 
Julius.  I  pictured  to  her  the  elysium  that  love  would 
make  around  her.  I  painted  to  her  mind  the  pleasures 
of  domestic  happineas.  Retired  from  the  multitude, 


92  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

we  should  be  the  more  shut  up  amid  the  deep  rich 
springs  of  our  own  affections.  Solitude,  ever  delight- 
ful to  my  mind,  seemed  doubly  so  when  shared  with 
Lucilla.  'The  artificial  dam  that  had  so  long  impeded 
the  course  of  our  affections  would  be  broken  away,  and 
they  be  suffered  to  be  poured  out,  in  all  their  deep  and 
silent  fulness.  I  spoke  of  sunset  walks  and  twilight 
music,  of  all  that  I  wished,  and  more  than  all  that  I 
dared  to  hope.  But  while  I  was  yet  pleading  with  all 
the  fervor  of  my  enthusiastic  character,  the  light  upon 
the  altar  began  to  waver.  Lucilla  started  as  from  a 
dream.  "  Go !  "  she  said  earnestly,  "  fly  and  leave  . 
me,  if  you  would  not  subject  me  to  severe  punishment. 
My  watch  has  expired  and  I  shall  be  relieved  instant- 
ly." At  the  same  time  she  hastened  to  replenish  the 
sacred  lamp.  For  myself,  aware  of  the  danger  into 
I  had  plunged  her  by  my  delay,  I  hesitated  not  a  mo- 
ment to  obey  her  ;  but  just  as  I  placed  my  hand  upon 
the  door,  I  heard  the  sound  of  approaching  footsteps. 
In  the  little  temple  it  was  scarcely  possible  to  conceal 
myself  with  any  hope  of  success  ;  and  to  go  out  was 
inevitable  detection. 

Bitterly  did  I  then  curse  the  folly  of  my  own  selfish 
passion,  that  had  thus  betrayed  its  object  into  a  situa- 
tion of  such  extreme  peril. 

The  area  of  the  temple  was  open — but  a  row  of 
light  Corinthian  columns,  surrounded  the  interior  of 
the  little  building,  corresponding  with  those  of  the 
portico  without.  The  temple  was  lighted  only  by  the 
sacred  fire,  but  that  was  too  vivid  for  me.  I  had  but 
one  chance.  I  threw  myself  flat  on  my  face  in  the  line 
of  the  shadow  of  one  of  these  little  pillars.  The  shad- 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  93 

ow  was  not  above  half  my  own  width,  but  my  toga  was 
dark  coloured,  and  there  was  no  choice.  I  gathered 
myself  into  as  narrow  a  compass  as  possible  ;  covering 
my  face,  and  only  leaving  space  sufficient  to  see  those 
who  were  about  to  enter. 

I  had  not  to  wait  long.  The  door  soon  opened,  and 
there  entered  an  old  woman  followed  by  a  Vestal  who 
was  to  take  the  place  of  Lucilla  at  the  sacred  fire. 
The  former  stopped  as  she  entered,  within  two  yards 
of  me ;  and  turned  round  to  see  if  the  Vestal  who  fol- 
lowed her  had  closed  the  door.  I  saw  the  dim,  rheumy 
eye  fall  directly  upon  me,  but  it  glanced  coldly  and 
carelessly  away,  and  I  was  convinced  that  she  did  not 
notice  me.  The  Vestal  too  turned  back  to  the  door, 
but  her  keen  eye  was  more  to  be  feared  than  that  of 
her  purblind  conductor.  She  was  (uruing  her  head 
carelessly  back  again,  when  as  her  eye  glanced  along 
the  shadow  in  which  I  lay,  I  saw  her  suddenly  turn 
her  head  again,  and  fix  her  piercing  eye  intently  for  a 
moment  upon  me,  I  gave  myself  up  for  lost.  It  was 
evident  that  the  misshapen  shadow  had  not  escaped 
her  quick  glance.  The  old  woman  passed  straight  on 
toward  the  altar  ;  but  the  Vestal  advanced  one  step 
aside  towards  where  I  lay  ere  she  followed  her  conduc- 
tor, with  her  head  cast  down,  as  if  in  contemplation  ; 
but  I  thought  I  caught  for  a  moment  the  glance  of  her 
eye  again  bent  upon  me,  as  I  lay  motionless  as  the  dead. 
My  imagination  deceived  me  ;  for  she  passed  steadily 
on,  and  when  I  heard  no  alarm  given,  I  could  scarcely 
credit  my  own  good  fortune. 

But  I  had  another  ordeal  to  go  through.  In  a  few 
moments  the  old  woman  returned,  followed  by  Lucilla. 
•  i 


94  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

The  eye  of  the  old  woman  again  rested  full  upon  me, 
and  again  glanced  coldly  away.  Not  so  Lucilla.  I 
saw  her  countenance  speak  unutterable  things,  as  she 
looked  at  me.  But  there  was  no  possibility  of  commu- 
nication, and  she  passed  quietly  out,  and  in  a  moment 
I  was  left  alone  with  the  Vestal. 

My  embarrassment  was  scarcely  less  now  than  be- 
fore ;  since  the  difficulty  of  getting  out  unperceived, 
seemed  insuperable.  The  alternative  that  seemed  to 
offer  was,  to  worm  myself  along  from  shadow  to  shadow, 
till  I  arrived  near  the  door,  and  then  either  suddenly 
to  break  out  and  trust  to  my  speed  to  escape  any  alarm 
that  she  might  raise,  or  to  endeavour  to  open  the  door 
silently,  as  I  lay  on  the  pavement,  and  escape  unper- 
ceived, or  to  rise  and  tell  her  openly  that  unless  she 
suffered  me  quietly  to  escape,  I  would  report  that 
it  was  by  her  appointment  that  I  was  concealed  there. 

But  my  plans  were  of  little  use  ;  for  no  sooner  were 
the  footsteps  well  out  of  hearing, .  than  suddenly  ap- 
proaching me  she  said,  "  Rise,  Sir,  and  tell  me  why 
you  are  here."  I  obeyed,  for  I  saw  that  I  had  been  dis- 
covered. I  advanced  to  the  altar,  and  began  to  offer 
some  embarrassed  and  improbable  excuse.  But  she 
cut  me  short.  "  You  are  a  Christian,"  she  said,  "  and 
so  is  Lucilla.  Am  I  not  right  ?  "  "  /am  a  Christian," 
I  replied.  "  And  so  too  am  I,"  she  returned.  It  was 
Canuleia,  and  I  was  safe.  I  stated  in  a  few  words  the 
difficulty  of  Lucilla's  situation  and  of  my  own.  It  was 
not  new  to  her  ;  and  she  dismissed  me  with  a  charge 
to  be  more  prudent  for  the  future,  and  not  to  sacrifice 
to  a  wild  passion,  the  life  and  reputation  of  another. 

As  I  descended  the  steps  of  the  portico,  the  first 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  95 

object  that  met  my  eyes  was  the  tall  figure  of  a  man, 
whom  I  instantly  recognised  as  Matho.  Cursing  him 
in  the  bitterness  of  my  heart,  I  returned  home,  to  try 
once  more  the  restlessness  of  a  sleepless  couch. 


CHAPTER  X. 

IP  sleep  and  I  were  at  enmity  before  I  had  seen 
Lucilla,  how  much  more  so  were  we  now  that  I  had 
avowed  my  love,  and  that  I  had  reason  to  hope  that  it 
was  not  unreturned.  Deep  and  darkening  as  were  the 
perils  that  encompassed  us,  there  was  a  charm  in  the 
thought  of  Lucilla's  love,  that  sent  joy  and  hope 
bounding  through  my  veins.  There  seemed  too  a  ray 
of  light  in  the  proposal  of  flight.  Could  I  but  once 
find  myself  at  a  distance  from  Pompeii,  the  deepest 
solitude,  the  darkest  midnight,  would  be  enough  with 
her.  But  our  laughing  hopes,  like  impatient  children, 
are  ever  running  before  sober-paced  reality  ;  and  my 
illusive  dreams,  after  dancing  for  a  while  in  summer 
regions,  were  always  obliged  to  return  from  the  sunny 
future  to  a  gloomy  present.  .  There  was  too  a  dark  back- 
ground to  the  picture,  in  which  Matho  was  a  conspicu- 
ous character  ;  but  this  I  loved  not  to  dwell  on. 

As  early  as  I  dared,  I  repaired  to  the  temple  of  Isis,  to 
learn  from  the  good-natured  Marcus  if  aught  new  had 
occurred.  He  was  absent  on  my  arrival ;  and  to  pass 
the  time  till  his  return,  I  went  to  the  tragic  theatre,30 
which  is  situated  hard  by  the  temple.  Having  provided 
myself  with  a  ticket31  which  indicated  a  tragedy  of 


96  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

^Eschylus,  I  entered,  and  was  rather  agreeably  sur- 
prised by  its  appearance.  It  is  semicircular,  and  like 
the  amphitheatre  divided  into  cavea?,  cunei,  &c.  The 
seats  or  gradins  rise  like  a  flight  of  steps,  and  were 
elegantly  covered  with  carpets  and  cushions.  On  the 
first  cavea  sat  the  Decurions,  the  Augustales,  and  all 
those  who  had  the  right  of  the  bisellium.*  On  the  sec- 
ond cavea  sat  the  citizens,  and  on  the  third  and  high- 
est, the  mob  and  the  women.  These  last  were  guarded 
from  the  danger  of  falling  by  little  iron  bars.  The 
caveaB  were  separated  from  each  other  by  parapets, 
On  that  between  the  first  cavere,  was  the  place  des- 
tined to  M.  Holconius  Rufus,  flamen  of  Augustus,  and 
patron  of  the  colony,  indicated  by  an  inscription.  The 
statues  of  Nero  and  of  Agrippina  adorn  the  theatre. 
The  orchestra  t  was  occupied  by  many  of  the  princi- 
pal magistrates.  The  scenery,  adorned  with  six  statues 
and  several  niches,  is  of  course  stationary;  and  the 
stage  is  raised  about  five  feet  from  the  ground.  As 
usual  three  doors  serve  for  ingress  and  egress,  the 
Regia  Porta  or  central  door  being  the  priucipal.  On 
a  tribune  at  the  extremity  of  the  proscenium,  sat  the 
President  of  the  show,  in  a  curule  chair ;  while  at  the 
other  extremity  was  another  tribune,  then  unoccupied. 
In  front  of  the  stage  there  are  seven  niches,  in  which 
sat  as  many  musicians. 

Meantime  it -began  to  wax  warm  ;  when  on  a  signal 
from  the  president,  an  awning,  as  if  by  magic,  shot 

*  L'honneur  du  bisellium  consistoit  a  s'asseoir  seul  dans  les  as- 
semblees  publiques  sur  ce  siege  ou  il  y  avoit  place  pour  deux  per- 
sonnes.  Histoire  precis  de  Pompei. 

f  In  modern  phrase  the  pit. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  97 

over  the  top  of  the  theatre,  so  as  to  form  a  partial 
roof;  and  this  was  followed  by  a  shower  of  perfumed 
water,  which  rained  down  upon  the  heads  of  the  spec- 
tators, diffusing  around  a  delicious  freshness.  While 
I  was  enjoying  the  agreeable  change,  I  felt  some  one 
tap  me  familiarly  on  the  shoulder,  and  turning,  I  saw 
my  good  friend  Marcus. 

"  Come,"  said    he,  "  return  with  me  to  the  temple  ; 
I  have  news  for  you." 

We  accordingly  left  the  theatre  ;  and  Marcus  by  the 
way  informed  me  that  a  solemn  religious  ceremony 
would  take  place  the  next  day,  at  which,  after  the 
omens  had  been  taken  by  the  augurs,  and  an  expia- 
tory sacrifice  at  the  Pantheon,  the  oracles  of  Isis  would 
be  consulted  to  learn  if  any  Vestal  were  really  guilty, 
and  if  so,  who  she  was.  He  likewise  informed  me 
that  Matho  was  at  the  theatre,  and  that  he  had  been 
first  led  to  notice  my  presence  from  the  malicious 
glances  of  his  eye  at  me.  He  added,  that  Matho  had 
that  morning  been  at  the  temple  in  close  conference 
with  one  of  the  priests ;  and  he  obscurely  hinted  at 
the  possibility  of  the  oracle  speaking  with  a  golden 
tongue.  His  suspicions  of  Matho,  though  darkly  inti- 
mated, were  evidently  not  less  strong  than  my  own  ;  and 
indeed  he  was  well  known  to  be  a  mere  spy  and  infor- 
mer of  Domitian.  "  But  we  can  discuss  your  affairs," 
he  said,  "  with  more  discretion  over  a  flask  of  Falerni- 
an."  So  saying,  he  led  the  way  into  the  refectory  of 
the  temple,  on  whose  Mosaic  floor  the  names 
N.  POPIDI  CELSINI, 
N.  POPIDI  AMPLIATI, 
CORNELIA  CELSA, 
9 


98  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

indicated  the  respect  paid  to  distinguished  votaries  of 
the  mysterious  goddess. 

Here  then  it  was  that  we  seated  ourselves  at  table  to 
old  Marcus's  eternal  eggs  and  chickens,  while  I  listen- 
ed to  his  remarks  and  opinions  on  my  situation  and 
prospects,  which  certainly  did  not  seem  very  flattering. 
But  however  gloomy  they  might  be,  there  seemed  little 
prospect  of  improving  them  ;  and  Marcus's  imagina- 
tion, even  when  quickened  by  his  own  excellent  Fa- 
lernian,  could  suggest  nothing  better  than  that  I  should 
keep  myself  as  retired  as  possible ;  for  should  the 
oracle  declare  aught  against  me,  I  might  fall  a  victim 
to  the  popular  fervor.  Fortunately,  my  person  was 
little  known ;  a  circumstance  to  which  Marcus  at- 
tributed my  having  hitherto  escaped  all  insult  or  attack 
while  in  public. 

It  was  night  when  I  returned  home,  where  I  found 
every  thing  in  confusion.  My  father  during  the  day 
had  heard  the  reports  in  circulation,  and  was  of  course 
exceedingly  alarmed.  Porcia  was  in  great  distress. 
All  seemed  relieved  by  my  arrival,  and  my  father 
instantly  informed  me  of  what  he  had  that  day  heard, 
— that  I  had  been  engaged  in  an  intrigue  with  a  Ves- 
tal, to  accomplish  which,  I  had  abandoned  my  re- 
ligion, and  had  seduced  her  from  hers. 

"  And  did  you,  my  father,  credit  the  shameful  story  1 " 
I  asked. 

"Credit  it'?  no!"  returned  he;  "but  who  would 
not  be  alarmed  at  finding  the  treasure  he  valued,  com- 
mitted to  so  much  peril  ?  Trust  me,  my  son,  much 
fear  always  accompanies  much  love." 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  99 

"  And  is  it  false  then,"  asked  Porcia,  "  that  you 
have  attended  the  secret  meetings  of  the  Christians — 
nay,  that  you  have  joined  yourself  to  that  terrible  sect  ?  " 

"  Porcia,"  I  said,  "  I  should  indeed  be  unworthy  the 
name  of  that  persecuted  sect,  if  I  hesitated  to  avow 
my  belief,  whenever  and  wherever  and  however  it  may 
be  questioned.  I  know  the  fearful  persecution  that 
pursues  all  who  avow  their  belief  of  Christianity— I 
know  that  it  may  bring  me  to  the  prison — to  the  arena 
— to  the  grave  ; — but  I  shall  not  the  less  abide  un- 
shrinking by  the  result." 

My  father  groaned  aloud  at  these  words,  and  Porcia, 
my  ever  gentle  sister,  wept.  The  sublime  firmness, 
or  as  it  was  termed  the  obstinate  obduracy,  with  which 
they  who  had  once  embraced  Christianity,  dared  and 
endured  tortures  and  death,  rather  than  abjure  their 
belief,  caused  it  to  be  considered  as  it  were  a  mortal 
and  irremediable  disease,  in  which  nothing  could  be 
done  for  the  wretched  victim,  but  to  weep  over  his 
hopeless  fall ; — and  his  friends  watched  him  with  much 
the  same  sensations  as  they  might  feel,  who,  standing  se- 
curely on  the  river's  bank,  should  see  a  son  or  a  brother 
swept  by  them,  on  its  swift  current,  to  be  dashed  in 
pieces  over  a  cataract,  without  the  power  to  aid,  or  to 
save  him.  My  father  reasoned  much  and  even  well 
on  the  nature  of  the  religion  I  .had  adopted.  lie 
thought  it  subversive  of  all  social  order  and -govern- 
ment. Porcia  said  nothing.  She  only  wept  in  silence. 

Distressing  as  was  this  scene,  the  wishes,  the  prayers, 
the  tears,  and,  last  but  not  least,  the  silence  of  those  I 
most  loved,  I  was  glad  finally  to  retire  to  my  room 
and  unroll  the  sacred  scroll,  that  I  might  draw  from  its 


100  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

pages  the  consolation  and  support  that  I  so  much 
needed,  and  that  thence  I  had  never  sought  in  vain. 
While  thus  engaged,  a  soft  tap  at  the  door  announced 
the  presence  of  my  gentle  sister.  She  came  to  sup- 
plicate me  by  my  love  to  her,  by  the  remembrance 
of  all  our  childish  joys  and  hours,  by  all  the  love  and 
respect  that  I  bore  to  the  memory  of  our  dear,  lost 
mother,  by  all  that  I  owed  to  our  living  parent,  by  rny 
regard  to  my  own  name  and  character,  and  all  that  I 
owed  my  family,  to  abandon  my  perilous  creed.  Half 
playfully  taking  from  me  the  scroll  that  I  was  reading, 
she  rolled  it  up  and  placed  it  in  her  bosom.  I  made 
no  opposition  to  the  act,  for  I  felt  a  hope  that  she  too 
might  yet  be  led  to  drink  of  the  waters  of  life,  by 
means  of  that  blessed  scroll. 

But  her  persuasions,  though  they  wrung  every  fibre 
of  my  heart,  moved  not  my  reason  nor  myself;  and 
when  -I  kissed  the  snowy  forehead  of  the  fair  girl  as  I 
wished  her  good  night,  I  saw  the  tear  she  had  been 
vainly  endeavouring  to  suppress,  gush  from  her  eye; 
and  though  conscious  not  only  that  my  firmness  was 
due  to  my  God  and  myself,  but  that  a  contrary  course 
would  have  been  guilty  and  criminal,  yet  I  could  not 
avoid  a  feeling  of  something  like  self-reproach,  that  I 
should  have  wrung  a  tear  from  the  eye  or  inflicted  a 
pain  upon  the  heart  of  my  ever  gentle  sister,  by  aught 
that  seemed  like  unkindness. 

Spite  of  all  the  troubles  that  were  gathering  around 
me,  I  slept  and  slept  soundly  ;  and  was  only  awakened 
in  the  morning  by  the  voice  of  Julius.  He  came,  he 
said,  to  enforce  the  advice  of  Marcus,  that  I  should 
absent  myself  from  the  ceremonies  that  were  to  take 


TALE  OF  POMPEIL  101 

place  diring  the  day  ;  but  he  strongly  recommended 
me  to  retire  to  the  cavern,  where  I  should  be  perfectly 
safe,  even  though  the  oracle,  tutored  by  Matho,  should 
criminate  me  in  its  reply.  I  was  however  too  anxious 
to  witness  a  ceremony  in  which  I  had  so  deep  an  in- 
terest, to  follow  his  advice.  I  therefore  muffled  myself 
as  much  as  I  could  without  appearing  suspiciously  so, 
and  sallied  forth  with  Julius. 

The  streets  were  crowded  almost  as  much  as  on  the 
day  of  the  show  at  the  amphitheatre.  We  elbowed  our 
way  as  well  as  we  were  able  to  the  Civil  Forum,  the 
scene  of  almost  all  the  public  or  solemn/etas  of  Pompeii. 
This  forum  is  about  three  hundred  and  fifty  feet  long 
and  a  hundred  and  ten  wide.  In  the  centre  was  raised 
a  temporary  staging  or  tower,  sufficiently  high  to  over- 
look all  the  buildings  of  the  city.  The  centre  of  the 
area  in  which  this  tower  stood,  was  kept  free  from 
the  press  of  the  crowd  by  soldiers,  who  with  long 
spears  walked  backward  and  forward  along  the  line 
formed  by  the  dense  multitude. 

By  dint  of  sturdy  crowding,  we  succeeded  in  getting 
sufficiently  forward  to  obtain  a  perfect  view  of  all  that 
was  going  on.  We  had  not  waited  long  when  through 
an  avenue  opposite  to  where  we  stood,  and  which  had 
been  kept  open  by  the  soldiers,  a  man  entered,  who  in 
a  loud  voice  ordered  all  who  heard  him  to  leave  their 
employments  and  attend  to  the  sacred  rites.  At  that 
order  the  hum  of  the  vast  multitude  gradually  died 
away,  and  silence  stole  through  the  crowd  behind  us ; 
the  most  remote  being  the  last  to  hear  and  obey  the 
order  ;  as  the  gradually  receding  sound  of  the  long, 
hoarse  wave  dies  on  the  sea-shore.  An  instant  before, 
9* 


102  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

and  the  air  was  filled  with  jests,  laughter,  and  impre- 
cations, mingled  with  oaths  by  all  the  Olympic  hosts, 
exclamations,  and  execrations,  as  some  were  squeezed 
or  crowded  harder  than  was  altogether  agreeable,  and 
amid  all,  the  continuous  hum  of  conversation.  Now 
all  this  noise  sunk  away  until  nothing  was  heard  but 
the  regular  tramp  of  the  armed  soldiers,  as  they  paced 
with  slow,  military  steps  along  their  posts,  mingled  with 
an  occasional  "  back,"  uttered  in  the  brief,  stern  tone 
of  military  authority.  After  a  few  moments'  silent  ex- 
pectation, the  axes  of  the  lictors  were  seen  above  the 
heads  of  the  crowd,  slowly  advancing,  and  the  wild 
notes  of  music  were  heard.  Two  and  two  the  lictors 
entered  the  area,  followed  by  the  musicians  ;  at  a  short 
distance  from  whom  followed  the  Pontifex  Maximus, 
with  slow  and  stately  step,  preceded  by  his  lictors. 
He  was  clad  in  all  his  robes  of  office  ;  a  purple  toga, 
and  on  his  head  a  conical  cap,  with  a  small  rod  wrapt 
round  with  wool,  having  a  tuft  or  tassel  on  its  summit. 
His  head  was  bound  with  chaplets  of  oak  leaves, 
mingled  with  the  leaves  of  several  other  trees,  sacred 
to  different  gods.  He  was  immediately  followed  by 
the  Vestals,  on  whose  account  these  solemn  ceremo- 
nies were  to  be  performed.  Following  these  came  the 
Popse  and  the  Cultrarius,  having  their  clothes  tucked  up 
and  naked  to.  the  waist ;  the  former  leading  by  a  rope 
a  snow-white  ram  having  his  horns  gilt  and  his  head 
adorned  with  oak  leaves  and  ribbons  ;  the  latter  bearing 
on  his  shoulder  a  kind  of  axe  or  mall.  Then  came 
the  pontifices,  the  augurs,  the  flamens,  &c. 

At  the  foot  of  the  tower  already  mentioned  stood  an 
altar,   towards   which   the   Popas   led   the   ram ;    but 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  1Q3 


jver  wa 


whether  alarmed  by  the  tower,  or  whatever  was  the 
cause,  just  as  he  was  approaching  the  altar,  he  sud- 
denly started  back  and  struggled  violently  to  escape. 
A  general  groan  was  heard,  as  the  unpropitious  omen 
occurred  ;  nevertheless  he  was  led  by  the  rope,  no  lon- 
ger slack,3'3  to  the  altar,  before  which  he  was  suffered  to 
stand  loose ;  although,  hemmed  in  as  lie  was  so  closely 
on  every  side,  that  he  fled  not  was  obviously  only  from 
want  of  power. 

The  Pontifex  Maximns  himself  now  approached  the 
altar,  with  his  head  covered,  and  turning  his  face  to 
the  east,  he  began  a  prayer,  frequently  interrupting  it 
by  stopping  to  touch  the  altar,  turning  himself  round 
in  a  circle.  They  who  stood  about  him  repeated  the 
words  after  him,  often  placing  their  right  hands  upon 
their  mouths.  When  the  prayer  was  closed,  silence 
was  again  ordered,  and  a  cake,  composed  of  meal  and 
salt,  was  spread  on  the  head  of  the  beast.  The  offi- 
ciating priest,  dressed  in  a  long  white  robe  and  crown- 
ed with  oak  leaves,  then  took  a  vessel  of  wine,  and 
having  first  tasted  it  himself,  and  passed  it  to  those 
about  him  to  taste,'  he  poured  it  out  upon  the  head  of 
the  ram,  sprinkling  frankincense  there  likewise.  He 
then  carefully  selected  the  highest  hairs  between  the 
horns,  and  threw  them  into  the  fire,  a  first  sacrifice.* 

The  cultrarius  then  approached  the  victim,  and  ad- 
dressing the  priest  he  made  the  wonted  inquiry,  u  Shall 
I  do  it  ?  "  t  To  which  he  received  the  usual  answer, 
"  Do  it,"  and  the  heavy  implement  of  the  cultrarius 
instantly  descended  upon  the  skull  of  the  poor  victim. 
The  alarmed  animal  moved  his  head  just  as  the  blow 
*  Prima  libaraina.  t  Agone  ?  Hoc  age. 


104  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

fell,  which  circumstance  diminished  its  effect,  and  the 
poor  beast,  though  stunned  and  convulsed,  did  not  fall 
till  the"  blow  was  repeated.  Another  murmur"  of  dis- 
satisfaction ran  through  the  multitude  on  witnessing 
this  second  evil  omen.  The  poor  animal  was  instantly 
stabbed  in  several  places,  and  goblets  were  held  in 
which  the  blood  was  caught  as  it  spouted  from  the 
wounds,  and  it  was  then  poured  out  on  the  altar.  The 
victim  was  next  flayed  and  opened,  and  the  Haruspices 
examined  the  entrails.  Their  omens  upon  the  whole 
were  favorable,  and  the  sacrifice  therefore  was  not 
repeated.  The  parts  which  fell  to  the  gods  were  next 
sprinkled  with  wine  and  frankincense,  and  burnt  upon 
the  altar.  The  sacrifice  being  completed,  the  priest 
washed  his  hands,  uttered  certain  prayers,  and  again 
made  a  libation. 

This  ceremony  completed,  an  augur  next  advanced 
and  ascended  the  tower.  Having  first  uttered  a  solemn 
prayer,  he  sat  down,  having  his  head  covered,  with  his. 
face  towards  the  east.  He  was  clothed  in  a  striped 
robe  of  purple  and  scarlet,  fastened  with  clasps.  On 
his  head  was  a  conical  cap,  similar  to  those  of  the  pon- 
tifices ;  and  in  his  right  hand  he  held  a  crooked  wand 
— 'the  lituus.  With  this  wand  he  divided  the  heavens 
into  imaginary  portions,  designating  them  by  the  mo- 
tions of  the  wand. 

Now  it  happened  that  the  weather  had  for  a  long 
time  been  dry  and  parching  ;  but  the  welcome  indica- 
tions of  a  shower  were  this  day  visible.  The  sky  was 
becoming  overcast,  and  a  deep  heavy  cloud  was  rising 
sluggishly  in  the  south.  The  augur  had  been  but  a 
short  time  seated,  and  a  reverent  silence  pervaded  the 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  105 

expecting  multitude  below.  It  was  not  of  long  contin- 
uance— for  suddenly  a  heavy  peal  of  thunder  was  heard 
roaring  and  reverberating  along  the  distant  cloud.  It 
was  of  course  on  the  right,  and  a  burst  of  absolute 
indignation  arose  from  the  multitude.  The  augur 
swiftly  descended,  and  the  procession  instantly  left  the 
ill-omened  forum,  and  repaired  to  the  neighbouring 
Pantheon,  where  prayers  and  sacrifices  were  again 
offered  to  all  the  gods,  after  which  it  repaired  to  the 
temple  of  Isis. 

Hastening  forward,  Julius  and  myself  went  by  a  dif- 
ferent street  from  that  taken  by  the  procession,  in  order 
if  possible  to  hear  the  response  of  the  oracle.  Marcus 
seemed  struck  with  horror  at  seeing  me  ;  however,  the 
kind-hearted  man  willingly  gave  me  a  situation  on  a 
staircase  leading  down  to  a  bath,  (where  the  young 
aspirant  to  the  mysterious  ministry  was  conducted  by 
the  Hierophant  among  the  preparatory  rites  of  initia- 
tion,) in  which  I  could  distinctly  hear  all  that  passed. 

We  had  not  Waited  long  when  the  procession  arrived. 
It  halted  before  the  temple,  when  the  Pontifex  Maxi- 
mus  ascended  the  seven  steps  of  the  sanctuary,  where 
he  uttered  various  prayers  and  invocations.  He  then, 
in  a  chanting  sort  of  tone,  began  the  accustomed  invo- 
cation to  the  Dii  Consentes,  beginning  and  ending  as 
usual  with  Janus  and  Vesta.  At  the  end  of  each  verse 
the  chorus,  "  Hear,  oh  !  hear,"  was  repeated  by  every 
tongue  in  that  countless  and  congregated  multitude  ; 
and  the  imposing  effect  of  a  whole  people's  voice  thus 
uplifted  at  once,  had  in  it  something  awfully  sublime, 

Guardian  of  the  Olympic  towers, 
Purest  of  the  heavenly  powers, 


106  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

Qvieen  of  wisdom,  king  of  war, 
Who  guid'st  the  battle  from  thy  car, 
Giver  of  the  yellow  grain, 
Virgin  huntress  of  the  plain, 

Cho.     Hear !  oh  hear ! 

Father — ruler — king  of  heaven, 
Be  thy  children's  sins  forgiven ; 
Queen  o'er  al!  th'  extended  sky, 
Lo  !  we  raise  a  suppliant  eye  ; 
Vulcan,  lend  thy  listening  ear; 
Love's  own  gentle  mother,  hear ! 
Hear !  oh  hear  ! 

'  Thou  whom  ocean's  depths  ohcy, 
Thou  of  the  lyre  and  thrilling  lay, 
Heavenly  envoy,  list  our  prayer, 
Powers  celestial,  hear  and  spare. 
Purest  of  the  heavenly  powers, 
Guardian  of  the  Olympic  towers, 
Hear !  oh  hear ! 
Thou  of  the  sacr?d  mystery 
We  come  to  thee. 

The  chorus  of  the  thousand  voices  of  the  people  was 
heard,  at  first  swelling  loud  and  deep,  like  a  hoarse, 
long  wave,  then  gradually  it  receded,  and  died  away 
amid  the  distant  crowd.  The  silence  that  succeeded 
seemed  terrific  from  its  intensity  and  its  contrast.  It 
was  broken  by  the  Pontifcx  Maximus ;  who  advancing 
a  step,  stood  reverently  before  the  statue  of  the  god- 
dess, and  in  humble,  suppliant  phrase  inquired  if  any 
Vestal  were  really  guilty,  and  how,  if  so,  she  might 
be  detected.  My  heart  beat  most  violently.  It  seemed 
an  age  ere  the  reply  was  given.  It  came  at  last.  A 
deep,  sudden,  clanging  peal  was  heard,  which  for  some 
time  filled  the  air  with  its  sullen  reverberations.  As 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  107 

these  died  away,  a  deep,  hollow  voice  was  heard. 
"  Beware  of  her  who  shall  suffer  the  sacred  fire  to  be 
extinguished." 

I  breathed  again  when  I  heard  this  equivocal  reply  ; 
well  knowing  how  rarely  this  accident  occurred  at  all 
times,  and  how  much  less  likely  it  would  be  to  happen 
now  that  the  Vestals  would  be  upon  their  guard  ;  and 
I  hugged  myself  in  the  hope  of  extrication  and  escape 
from  this  threatening  embarrassment. 

Baskets  containing  the  richest  and  most  costly  jew- 
els and  ornaments  were  placed  upon  the  altar,  previous 
to  asking  the  response,  as  a  present  to  the  goddess ; 
and  now,  as  the  reply  was  announced  to  the  expecting 
crowd,  it  dispersed,  and  Julius  and  myself  returned 
safely  to  our  homes. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  magnificent  car  of  the  Vestals  passed  us  on 
our  return,  every  one  respectfully  making  way  for  it 
Porcia  received  me  with  delight.  She  had  pass- 
ed a  day  of  severe  apprehension  and  misgivings. 
Doubting,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  of  my  entire  inno- 
cence, and  relying  upon  the  truth  of  the  sacred  re- 
sponses, she  had  passed  the  day  in  terror  lest  my  guilt 
should  be  announced  to  the  people,  and  I  fall  a.  victim 
to  the  popular  excitement. 

Meantime,  night  after  night  had  passed,  and  Vestal 
after  Vestal  had  gone  safely  through  the  ordeal,  the 
sacred  fire  burning  undimmed.  On  the  day,  the  night 


108  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

of  which  it  was  Lucilla's  turn  to  watch  in  the  temple, 
Porcia  informed  tne  that  she  had  met  Lucilla,  who  in- 
trusted her  with  a  message  to  me.  The  substance  of  it 
was,  that  Mat  ho  had  again  intruded  himself  upon  her, 
and  had  again  urged  his  licentious  passion  ;  threatening 
in  case  of  refusal,  not  only  to  denounce  Julius  and  myself 
as  Christians,  but  that  her  own  punishment  also  should 
be  fearful.  He  further  intimated,  though  obscurely, 
that  the  oracle  had  uttered  only  what  he  chose  ;  and 
that  he  had  in  his  power,  and  should  not  hesitate  to 
inflict  upon  her,  not  only  the  most  horrible  of  dooms  to 
which  the  Vestal  order  is  subject,  but  also  to  destroy 
her  reputation  and  honor,  causing  her  to  survive  life  in 
the  infamy  which  should  cling  around  her  name. 

Who,  situated  as  she  was,  would  not  have  paused, 
ere  throwing  themselves  on  the  tremendous  alternative 
thus  offered  to  them  ?  But  the  pure  and  lofty  mind  of 
Lucilla  hesitated  not  a  moment  in  its  choice  ;  and 
having  warned  Julius  and  myself  of  the  threatened 
danger,  she  prepared  herself  for  whatever  of  evil  she 
was  destined  to  suffer.  For  myself,  my  rage  knew  no 
bounds ;  yet  no  step  could  be  taken  for  fear  of  precipi- 
tating the  fate  of  Lucilla.  For  myself,  I  cared  not, 
though  my  own  fate  seemed  hanging  by  a  thread.  It 
was  not  till  now  that  I  had  dared  to  declare  to  Julius 
my  love  for  his  sister  ;  and  he  seemed  certainly  not 
displeased  when  he  heard  my  plan  of  marrying  Lucilla, 
so  soon  as  we  had  made  our  escape,  should  that  time 
ever  arrive.  We  planned,  with  all  the  ardor  of  enthu- 
siasm and  youth,  a  thousand  different  methods  of 
escape,  to  all  of  which  there  was  but  one  objection,  the 
impossibility  of  carrying  them  into  execution  ;  and  we 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  109 

parted  at  last,  our  projects  were  no  more  advanced  than 
when  we  first  began  to  consider  them. 

In  .the  course  of  the  day,  however,  he  returned  to 
inform  me  that  Vetullius  had  devised  a  measure  that 
seemed  to  promise  success.  It  was  agreed  that  the 
next  evening  we  should  assemble  at  the  house  of  Ve- 
tullius's  friend  before  mentioned.  The  beautiful  bay 
lay  stretched  behind  it,  at  the  extremity  of  the  garden 
in  which  we  had  been  accustomed  to  sit,  and  listen  to 
the  words  of  the  venerable  Vetullius.  Here  a  boat  was 
to  be  in  readiness,  with  disguises  for  Julius,  Lucilla, 
and  myself;  and  in  it  we  were  to  embark  for  Neapolis, 
where  a  trusty  friend  of  Vetullius  would  receive  and 
secrete  us  as  long  as  we  should  desire,  until  some 
secure  place  of  refuge  could  be  discovered.  Vetullius 
himself  could  not  be  persuaded  to  accompany  us 
though  he  promised  soon  to  follow  us.  Julius,  mean- 
time, undertook  to  acquaint  Lucilla  with  the  plan,  and 
secure  her  readiness  and  acquiescence.  He  laughingly 
described  the  disguises  which  he  had  already  procured. 
Julius  and  myself  were  to  assume  the  garb  of  fisher- 
men, while  Lucilla  was  to  figure  in  that  of  a  Campa- 
nian  peasant  girl.  Our  plan  was  ripe  for  execution, 
and  there  seemed  no  visible  obstacle  to  its  accomplish- 
ment. In  the  course  of  the  day,  Julius  found  means 
to  inform  Lucilla  of  our  project,  and  I  had  the  delight 
of  hearing  that  she  acceded  to  it. 

Night  came — the  last  that  Lucilla  was  to  minister  at 
the  shrine  of  an  idol.  We  passed  it  "merrily  enough 
with  Marcus,  whose  convivial  humor  made  time  fly 
swiftly.  We  both  felt  a  sincere  friendship  for  the  good- 
humored  man,  and  left  him  with  regret.  He  little 
10 


HO  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

deemed  that  we  intended  that  meeting  to  be  one  of 
farewell, — that  parting  to  be  eternal.  Julius  repaired 
to  his  own  house  ;  but  for  myself,  I  felt  a  secret  mis- 
giving that  led  me  to  extend  my  walk  to  the  temple  of 
Vesta,  in  order  that  I  might  catch  a  glimpse  of  the 
light  through  the  chinks  of  the  door,  and  thus  satisfy 
myself  that  all  was  well.  It  was  about  the  end  of  the 
second  watch,  that  I  found  myself  there,  and  caught 
the  glimmer  of  the  light  through  the  well-known  crev- 
ice. The  sight  reassured  me ;  but  while  lingering 
about  the  portico,  I  thought  I  heard  the  sound  of  foot- 
steps, and  soon  recognised  the  voice  of  Matho  in  close 
conversation  with  another.  I  instantly  retired,  but  nev- 
ertheless listened  greedily  to  the  conversation.  It 
seemed  sufficiently  enigmatical.  They  spoke  of  an 
arrest  and  of  a  prison,  but  whether  it  referred  or  not 
to  Lucilla,  I  was  unable  to  determine. 

She,  meantime,  unconscious  of  aught  that  was  pass- 
ing about  her,  sat  wrapt  in  her  meditations  till  the  hour 
at  which  it  was  customary  to  feed  the  sacred  flame 
with  a  fresh  supply  of  oil.  Taking  the  vessel  in  her 
hand,  she  proceeded  to  empty  it  into  the  broad  plate- 
like  lamp.  Scarcely  had  she  begun  when  the  flame  of 
the  lamp  sunk  and  grew  dim.  A  violent  spattering  en- 
sued, as  if  water  had  been  thrown  upon  the  wick.  The 
alarmed  girl  examined  the  vessel  from  which  she  had 
poured  the  oil.  Some  one  had  poured  off  a  quantity  of 
the  oil  and  supplied  its  place  with  water.  She  instantly 
flew  to  the  spot  in  which  the  jar  of  oil  was  kept.  It 
was  empty."  She  then  attempted  to  pour  off  the  water 
from  the  oil  in  the  vessel  from  which  she  was  about  to 
replenish  the  lamp  ;  but  before  she  had  time  to  effect 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  HI 

her  purpose,  the  light,  after  a  short  struggle  for  its  ex- 
istence, expired. 

An  exclamation  from  Matho  first  apprized  me  of  the 
event,  as  well  as  of  the  share  he  himself  had  in  pro- 
ducing it.  Entering  the  temple,  he  offered  to  relume 
the  sacred  light,  if  she  would  consent  to  his  wishes. 

"  Your  victim  I  may  be,"  replied  the  undaunted  girl, 
"  but  never  the  victim  of  dishonor." 

For  myself,  I  too  hastened  to  enter  the  temple,  to 
protect  Lucilla  should  it  prove  necessary,  from  the 
ruffian.  My  entrance  was  disputed  by  Matho's  com- 
panion, but  he  knew  not  what  it  was  to  contend  with 
a  desperate  man.  I  dashed  him  to  the  earth  as  if  he 
had  been  an  infant,  and  entered  just  in  time  to  hear 
the  reply  of  Lucilla.  The  man  I  had  overthrown  at 
the  door  called  to  Matho  to  beware  of  me  and  instantly 
ran  from  the  temple. 

I  was  not  armed,  and  I  rejoiced  at  it  afterwards  ; 
otherwise  I  should  then  have  become  a  murderer.  Lu- 
cilla knew  my  voice,  and  instantly  eame  towards  me 
as  I  stood  near  the  door,  and  visible  to  her,  though  the 
darkness  prevented  my  distinguishing  her.  Matho  too 
recognised  me,  and  bestowing  upon  me  a  hearty  curse, 
rushed  from  the  temple.  I  pursued  him,  for  my  soul 
was  burning  with  revenge.  It  was  unavailing.  He 
escaped  me  ;  and  in  the  meantime  Lucilla  was  arrest- 
ed. It  was  in  vain  that  she  explained  the  artifice  that 
had  been  employed  to  produce  this  result — in  vain  she 
appealed  to  the  empty  oil-jar  and  the  adulterated  oil  as 
positive  proof  of  deception.  No  one  would  take  the 
trouble  to  examine  them.  The  oracle  had  declared 
her  to  be  guilty,  who  should  suffer  the  holy  fire  to  go 


112  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

out,  and  therefore  she   must  be  guilty.     Accordingly 
she  was  committed  to  prison. 

It  would  not  be  easy  to  paint  my  sensations,  when 
on  my  return  from  my  unavailing  pursuit  of  Matho,  I 
found  the  temple  dark  and  deserted,  and  was  told  by 
some  idle  loiterers  who  had  collected  around  the  spot, 
that  Lucilla  had  been  taken  to  prison.  It  was  obvious 
that  I  should  now  be  accused ;  and  accordingly  I  re- 
paired to  my  cavern  with  all  despatch,  and  throwing 
myself  upon  the  straw  that  had  been  provided  for  that 
purpose,  delivered  myself  up  to  the  bitter  reflections  of 
my  mind.  Day  returned,  but  there  was  no  day  for  me; 
and  repeatedly  did  I  rise  and  grope  my  way  to  the 
tomb,  for  the  entrance  to  the  cavern  was  still  through 
a  tomb,  to  see  if  the  long  expected  dawn  had  at  length 
appeared.  Towards  evening  I  received  a  visit  from 
Julius,  who  brought  with  him  food,  but  no  consolation. 
I  was  publicly  denounced  as  the  seducer  of  a  Vestal 
and  a  Christian  ;  and  a  large  reward  was  offered  for 
rny  apprehension.  The  whole  city  was  in  an  uproar. 
He  had  seen  my  father,  who  was  in  the  greatest  alarm 
on  my  account.  He  added,  that  he  should  return  again 
in  the  evening,  after  consulting  with  Vetullius.  His 
account  of  the  consternation  and  grief  of  my  family 
distressed  me  exceedingly.  I  would  have  given  worlds 
to  see  them,  though  but  for  a  minute,  to  explain  my 
situation,  and  to  exchange  farewells  ;  to  assuage  the 
anguish  of  the  gentle  Porcia,  and  to  console  the  deep, 
but  manly  sorrow  of  ray  father.  I  began  to  long  for 
darkness  as  much  as  I  had  before  done  for  daylight, 
in  the  hope  that  then  I  might  induce  Julius  to  consent 
to  my  going  to  my  father. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  113 

Time,  whose  steady  foot  joy  hastens  not,  nor  sorrow 
retards,  at  length  brought  the  wished  for  hour ;  but 
with  that  hour  Julius  came  not.  In  vain  hour  after 
hour  rolled  by.  I  posted  myself  at  length  at  the  door 
of  the  tomb,  in  order  to  catch  the  first  sound  of  foot- 
steps. The  third  watch  had  already  begun,  and  disap- 
pointed and  grieved  I  was  turning  with  a  heavy  heart 
from  the  door,  when  I  thought  I  heard  some  one  cau- 
tiously approaching.  I  retreated  into  the  cave,  and 
was  soon  delighted  with  the  sound  of  my  own  name, 
uttered  in  Julius's  low  musical  tones.  He  threw  down 
a  heavy  bundle  that  he  had  been  carrying,  and  bidding 
me  wait  his  return,  instantly  disappeared.  In  a  few 
moments,  however,  he  again  appeared  heavily  laden. 
"  Here,"  said  he,  "  is  a  spade,  mattock,  and  imple- 
ments for  digging,  which  Vetullius  directed  me  to 
bring  with  me,  for  what  purpose  1  know  not ;  and  here 
is  what  is  likely  to  be  vastly  more  useful,  which  I 
brought  on  my  own  account.  At  the  same  time  he 
struck  a  light,  and  lighting  a  lamp,  displayed  helmets 
and  swords  that  he  had  likewise  brought  along  with 
him.  "  Here,"  said  he,  "  if  it  come  to  the  worst,  we 
may  at  least  fall  fighting  like  men,  and  not  be  dragged 
forth  to  die  on  the  arena,  like  the  poor  victims  we  have 
both  seen  sacrificed  there.  He  informed  me,  that  the 
cause  of  his  being  so  late  was,  that  he  believed  himself 
to  have  been  dogged,  and  suspected  it  to  have  been 
with  the  intention  of  discovering  my  lurking-place. 
He  had,  therefore,  sent  the  implements  that  he  had 
brought  with  him  by  a  trusty  slave,  first  to  my  father's 
house,  and  thence,  after  darkness  had  closed  in,  to  a 
spot  in  the  neighbourhood  of  this  tomb,  where  he  had 
10* 


114  TALE  OF  POMPEII, 

ordered  them  to  be  left.  He  himself,  meantime,  had 
been  loitering  about  the  city  till  late.  He  had  then 
entered  the  house  of  a  friend,  and  immediately  passed 
out  by  a  private  gate  which  opened  upon  another  street, 
and  had  thus  rid  himself  of  his  pursuer.  He  next 
repaired  to  my  father's  house,  whence  he  was  but  now 
come.  After  securing  the  implements  he  had  brought 
in  the  back  part  of  the  cavern,  we  armed  ourselves 
with  sword  and  helmet,  and  thus,  in  a  secure  disguise, 
sallied  forth  to  my  father's  house,  which  fortunately 
was  not  far  off,  certain  that  if  met  by  any  one,  we 
should  be  taken  for  two  young  officers  who  had  been 
on  some*  youthful  expedition  without  the  city.  Every 
thing  had  been  prepared  by  Julius  already  for  my  safe 
reception.  The  slaves  had  all  been  sent  out  of  the 
way,  and  no  sooner  were  we  arrived,  than,  at  a  gentle 
touch  on  the  door,  it  was  opened,  and  I  was  locked  in 
the  arms  of  my  father  and  sister.  We  instantly  passed 
through  the  garden  down  into  an  arched  subterranean 
gallery33  made  in  the  form  of  the  four  sides  of  a  square, 
which  afforded,  during  the  heat  of  the  day,  a  cool  and 
agreeable  promenade.  It  was  now  the  part  of  the 
house  the  most  secure  from  interruption. 

Here  to  my  surprise  I  found  Vetullius  and  Caius 
Marcus,  The  latter,  in  spite  of  his  sympathy  with  me, 
could  not  avoid  from  time  to  time  moistening  his  sor- 
row in  a  cup  of  wine,  amphorae  of  which  stood  ranged 
along  the  side  of  the  passage.  There  was  something 
striking,  I  had  almost  said  ludicrous,  in  the  contrast 
presented  by  the  appearance  of  these  two  men,  the  one 
the  minister  of  an  idol,  the  other  a  servant  of  the  Most 
High.  The  one  grave  and  venerable,  with  pallid  coun- 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  1 1 5 

tenance  and  hoary  head  and  beard,  as  he  supported  his 
aged  body  upon  his  staff;  the  other  in  the  fullness  of 
middle  age,  his  athletic  and  almost  Herculean  person, 
upright  form,  and  broad,  rosy  face,  manifesting  any 
thing  but  the  mortifications  and  austerity  which  his 
dress,  as  priest  of  Isis,  would  indicate.  But  they 
stood  now  side  by  side,  engaged  alike  in  a  work  of  be- 
nevolence; and,  in  truth,  the  danger  encountered  now 
by  the  Pagan,  was  by  no  means  trifling,  if  he  were  de- 
tected, while  that  of  the  Christian  was  comparatively 
small ;  and  1  humbly  trust  that  in  the  great  day  of 
account,  a  just  and  merciful  judge  will  not  weigh  un- 
avoidable errors  of  creed,  against  virtuous  actions. 

He  seized  my  hand  as  I  entered,  "  Well,  Lucius," 
said  he,  "  have  you  had  any  thing  to  eat  in  that  den  of 
Pluto  in  which  you  have  been  burrowing  to-day  ?  any 
wine  of  Isis  ?  ha,  boy  1  By  Jupiter  !  I  got  two  large 
'amphora?  of  our  best  for  you,  but  I  knew  not  how  to 
get  them  to  you,  had  not  Julius  taken  charge  of  them. 
But  what  in  the  name  of  all  the  gods  possessed  you  to 
affront  Matho,  and  make  love  to  a  Vestal  ?  Were  you 
sick  of  life,  that  you  took  such  measures  to  be  rid  of 
it?" 

I  thanked  him  for  his  thought  of  me  and  mine,  and 
I  walked  round  and  round  our  promenade  with  Porcia 
on  one  arm  and  my  father  or>  the  other,  engaged  in 
planning  and  hoping  for  the  future,  when  suddenly  a 
violent  noise  was  heard  above,  and  Julius,  who  went 
to  learn  the  cause,  soon  returned  with  the  unpleasant 
news  that  the  house  was  surrounded  by  soldiers,  and 
that  I  should  infallibly  be  taken.  This  appalling  intel- 
ligence was  scarcely  less  alarming  to  Marcus  than  to 


1)6  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

me  ;  since  for  him,  a  priest  of  Isis,  to  be  found  coun- 
tenancing and  abetting  an  abjurer  of  religion,  the  sup- 
posed violater  of  a  Vestal,  did  not  augur  much  more 
favorably  for  him,  than  for  me.  "  Come,"  said  he, 
filling  a  cup  to  the  brim,  "  if  I  fall  now  I  shall  but  do 
for  a  friend,  what  I  must  soon  have  done  for  myself;  " 
then  pouring  out  a  little  in  libation  he  drank  oif  the 
rest. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  extinguish  all  the  lights  but  one 
and  open  the  door.  For  you,  Julius  and  Lucius,  do 
you  stand  behind  the  door.  We  obeyed  almost  me- 
chanically, and  no  sooner  was  the  door  open  than  in 
rushed  a  dozen  soldiers,  armed  pretty  much  as  we  our- 
selves were.  Those  who  entered,  naturally  passed  our 
hiding-place,  if  it  deserved  the  name,  a  few  only  bear- 
ing torches.  "  Now,"  whisperd  Marcus,  who  had  sta- 
tioned himself  near  us,  "  come  boldly  out  and  mingle 
with  these  men."  The  artifice  succeeded.  We  join- 
ed the  soldiers,  taking  care  to  keep  as  much  as  possible 
in  obscurity  and  conceal  our  faces  with  our  helmets. 
The  soldiers,  intent  only  on  search  after  me,  dreamed 
not  of  our  being  so  near  ;  andr  naturally  occupied  in 
the  search  they  had  instituted,  thought  not  of  our 
being  other  than  a  part  of  their  own  band.  But  while 
we  were  expecting  detection  every  moment,  we  sud- 
denly perceived  a  dense  smoke  pouring  into  the  room, 
and  the  cry  of  fire  was  heard  from  below.  The  sol- 
diers, who  hitherto  had  been  so  clamorous  and  active 
in  their  search,  now  began  to  turn  back  to  the  door, 
in  visible  terror,  which  was  increased  by  the  universal 
rush  of  all  the  soldiers  at  once  to  escape  by  the  same 
narrow  aperture,  caused  by  meeting  the  dense  heavy 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  117 

volumes  of  smoke  which  came  rolling  up  into  the 
room,  making  respiration  impossible.  The  speed  with 
which  they  had  entered  the  house,  was  but  a  snail's 
pace  compared  with  that  with  which  they  quitted  it, 
and  Julius  and  myself  crowded  out  along  with  the 
retreating  mass,  no  one  in  the  least  suspecting  us  to  be 
other  than  we  seemed.  A  line  of  soldiers  was  drawn 
up  before  the  door,  which  allowed  none  to  pass  through 
its  ranks  but  the  soldiers  themselves.  Under  this  ap- 
pearance, we  made  our  way  through  the  line,  and 
mixing  with  the  crowd  which  was  now  collected,  we 
gradually  retreated  till  we  got  completely  free  of  them, 
when  we  returned  directly  to  our  cavern. 

Divesting  himself  of  his  arms,  Julius  instantly  sallied 
forth  again,  promising  soon  to  return  and  let  me  know 
how  matters  stood. 

In  the  space  of  an  hour  he  fulfilled  his  promise,  and 
informed  me  that  he  had  seen  my  father  and  Porcia, 
whom  he  had  delighted  with  the  news  of  my  safety. 
The  smoke  and  the  alarm  of  fire  had  been  raised,  as  I 
supposed,  by  Marcus,  in  order  to  give  us  an  opportu- 
nity of  escape.  And  after  the  smoke  and  confusion 
had  dissipated  a  little,  neither  Marcus  nor  Vetullius 
was  to  be  found.  Marcus  had  contrived  in  the  con- 
fusion, taking  Vetullius  by  the  hand,  to  pass  the  line 
of  soldiers,  who  themselves  startled  at  the  sudden  alarm 
of  fire,  and  pressed  by  the  crowd  behind  and  the  fugi- 
tives in  front,  were  unable  to  give  that  attention  to 
their  duty  which  was  necessary.  When,  therefore,  the 
search  was  at  length  recommenced  with  more  of  order, 
nothing  was  to  be  found  ;  and  the  centurion  command-, 
ing  the  party,  apologized  to  my  father,  mentioning  hia 
orders  and  false  information  as  the  cause. 


118  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

Another  piece  of  information  that  he  had  gained  was 
of  a  nature  deeply  interesting  to  both  of  us.  It  was, 
that  Lucilla  was  the  next  day  to  be  tried  at  a  solemn 
assembly  of  the  Pontifical  colleges.  There  seemed 
but  little  doubt  what  would  be  the  result  of  such  a  trial, 
and  as  may  readily  be  imagined,  the  reflections  of  a 
lover  and  a  brother  on  the  fearful  prospect  of  having  a 
mistress  or  a  sister  buried  alive,  could  not  be  very 
consolatory. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  trial  of  Lucilla,  if  that  could  be  so  called, 
which  seemed  rather  a  solemn  assembly  for  the  purpose 
of  an  emphatic  condemnation,  was  soon  over.  It  was 
unanimously  agreed  that  she  had  been  pointed  out  by 
the  oracle  in  the  most  decisive  manner.  As  far,  how- 
ever, as  it  might  be  satisfactory  to  prove  the  criminali- 
ty of  Lucilla  by  direct  testimony,  the  Pontifex  Maxi- 
rnus  said,  that  he  had  a  witness,  who  was  able  to  prove 
it.  Matho  was  then  introduced,  who  deposed  that  he 
had  met  Lucilla  walking  alone  with  Lucius  Diomedes 
at  the  hour  of  the  third  watch,  that  he  had  seen  him 
in  attendance  upon  her  at  the  private  meetings  of  the 
Christians — that  we  were  both  Christians,  and  regu- 
larly had  attended  the  secret  assemblies  of  that  sect, 
whose  mysterious  meetings  had  for  their  object  the  dis- 
organization of  government — that  he  had  seen  Lucius 
Diomedes  enter  the  Vestal  temple  between  the  second 
and  third  watch,  at  the  time  that  Lucilla's  watch  oc- 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  119 

curred,  and  at  last  retire,  only  after  having  been  a  long 
time  alone  with  her,  and  that  this  had  repeatedly  hap- 
pened— nay,  that  on  the  very  night  of  her  arrest,  when, 
alarmed  by  hearing  of  the  extinction  of  the  sacred  fire 
as  he  was  passing  by,  he  had  hastily  entered,  he  was 
violently  attacked  by  this  young  Lucius,  and  not  know- 
ing but  that  he  might  be  armed,  he  had  fled  and  was 
pursued  by  him,  doubtless  with  the  intent  of  sealing 
his  lips  effectually  from  giving  testimony  against  him ; — 
finally,  he  inferred  from  all  these  facts,  of  most  of 
which  he  was  able  to  bring  other  testimony,  not  only 
that  Lucilla  was  dishonored,  but  that  the  temple  itself 
had  been  the  scene  of  her  unholy  love,  and  that  dis- 
honor and  sacrilege  had  assailed  alike  the  priestess  and 
the  temple.  The  reply  of  the  oracle,  and  its  apparent 
remarkable  coincidence  with  the  fact,  were  considered 
as  fully  maintaining  and  supporting  the  evidence  thus 
adduced,  and  she  was  condemned  to  the  terrible  pun- 
ishment decreed  to  those  Vestals  who  had  violated  their 
Vestal  vow,  viz.  to  be  buried  alive  with  the  customary 
forms  in  the  Campus  Sceleratus.34  The  imposing  pomp 
and  form  which  marked  the  proceedings  of  this  assem- 
bly, were  well  adapted  to  carry  a  degree  of  awe  and 
terror  into  the  bosom  of  a  young  girl  of  seventeen. 
But  they  failed  of  their  effect  upon  the  firm  spirit  of 
Lucilla.  She  met  her  accusers  with  the  resolution  that 
innocence  only  can  give.  The  first  question  they  ask- 
ed her  was,  "  Are  you  a  Christian  ?  " 

"  I  am,"  was  the  prompt  reply. 

A  low  but  carefully  suppressed  murmur  ran  through 
the  assembly,  as  if  that  confession  included  all  of  which 
she  was  accused  ;  after  which  the  Pontifex  Maximus 
resumed. 


120  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

"  You  confess  then  your  guilt  1  " 

"  The  child  of  Flavius  Cennius  has  no  guilt  to  con- 
fess to  man.  Dishonor  belongs  not  to  the  name." 

"  The  worse  then  for  her  who  is  the  first  to  sully  it. 
Are  you,  or  are  you  not,  guilty  of  a  violation  of  your 
Vestal  vow  ?  " 

"I  might  hope,"  she  replied,  "that  the  readiness 
with  which  I  have  already  acknowledged,  what  in  your 
eyes  is  a  scarcely  less  crime,  and  would  meet  a  scarcely 
less  punishment,  might  obtain  due  credit  to  my  vera- 
city, while  I  most  solemnly  invoke  Heaven  to  attest  my 
total  and  entire  innocence  of  the  charge." 

But  why  should  I  pursue  the  history  of  the  trial. 
Suffice  it  that  she  heard  the  sentence  of  condemnation 
pronounced  by  the  Pontifex  Maximus  with  the  most 
unwavering  calmness  and  firmness;  and  after  being 
informed  that  the  execution  of  the  sentence  would  take 
place  the  next  day,  she  was  remanded  to  prison. 

It  has  been  stated,  that  the  Civil  Forum  was  an 
oblong  square,  one  end  of  which  was  formed  by  the 
temple  of  Jupiter.  Directly  opposite  to  this  temple,  on 
the  side  of  the  forum  stands  the  range  of  prisons.  In 
one  of  these  prisons,  which  admitted  not  a  ray  of  light, 
a  low,  damp,  vaulted  cell,  strongly  guarded,  its  narrow 
door  fortified  by  bars  of  iron,  Lucilla  was  confined. 

But  close  as  was  that  confinement,  it  was  not  suffi- 
ciently so  to  exclude  the  creature  of  the  emperor.  The 
evening  before  the  appointed  day  of  execution,  the 
heavy  door  was  opened,  and  the  dark,  tall  form  of 
Matho  appeared,  bearing  a  torch  in  his  hand.  The 
submissive  jailor  had  retired  at  his  command,  and  he 
was  left  alone  with  the  Vestal.  As  the  broad  glare  of 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  121 

the  smoky  torch  flashed  upon  the  low  roof  and  sides  of 
the  prison,  Lucilla  was  discovered  on  her  knees  before 
the  little  crucifix  which  has  been  already  mentioned  as 
the  gift  of  Vetullius.  She  moved  not  at  first  as  he  en- 
tered ;  and  when  at  length  she  raised  her  head,  it  was 
not  the  pale,  care-worn,  haggard  countenance  of  a 
tender  girl,  the  tenant  of  such  a  dungeon, — but  a  calm, 
beautiful,  and  tranquil  countenance,  the  slight  glow 
upon  whose  cheek  might  have  been  either  the  flush  of 
fever,  or  of  devotion. 

"  How  now,  fair  Vestal,"  said  the  intruder,  "  upon 
your  knees  !  May  I  ask  to  whom  the  beauteous  Lucilla 
deigns  to  kneel  1 " 

"  I  do  not  kneel  to  you,"  replied  the  fearless  girl. 

"  The  time  will  come,  haughty  lady,  when  that  stub- 
born spirit  will  be  less  unwilling  to  beg  the  protection 
of  Matho.  A  word  from  me  to  the  Emperor  can  save 
you  from  the  horrible  death  you  are  doomed  to  suffer ; 
nay  more,  will  clear  your  bleeding  reputation.  You 
know  the  conditions  on  which  alone  that  word  will  be 
uttered." 

"  I  do  indeed  know  and  despise  alike  them  and  their 
proposer.  You  clear  my  reputation  !  Yes  !  on  condi- 
tion of  my  becoming  actually  the  dishonored  thing 
which  your  vile  breath  has  already  represented  me  as 
being.  1  kneel  to  you  for  a  dishonored  life  !  Never, 
while  Pompeii  has  a  prison,  or  the  Campus  Sceleratus 
a  grave." 

"  Ay  !  right— you  are  not  the  first  I  have  met  with 
ready  to  cry  up  the  commodity  they  may  happen  to 
have  for  disposal.     But  beware  lest  you  outbid  your 
11 


122  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

own  market.  Nay,  blush  not,  this  is  neither  place  nor 
time  for  any  but  direct  communication." 

"  Wretched,  profligate,  abandoned  villain,  I  may  well 
blush  that  under  any  circumstances  a  pure  mind  should 
be  compelled  to  listen  to  the  insulting  language  of  such 
a  demon  as  you." 

"  Will  the  pure  mind  of  the  chaste  Lucilla  deign  to 
inform  my  poor  comprehension  how  the  boy  Diomedes 
became  so  much  more  fortunate  than  the  demon 
Matho  1  how  he  was  able  to  win  the  difficult  love  of 
the  Vestal  ? " 

"  By  not  resembling  you." 

"  By  Jove,  this  is  too  much.  Foolish  girl,  I  stooped 
to  beg  when  I  might  command.  Know  that  I  came  here 
with  a  fixed  and  settled  purpose  ;  and  if  you  will  not 
yield  to  fair  words  and  to  fair  offers,  you  shall  to  force. 
Here  you  are  in  my  power.  The  jailor  is  my  creature, 
and  your  cries  will  be  unheard  by  any  other  ear." 

"  You  deceive  yourself.  There  is  an  ear  will  hear 
and  an  arm  that  will  revenge  me — ay  !  faithfully." 

"  It  shall  not  lack  the  opportunity  then  ;  "  and  the 
miscreant  darted  forwards  to  seize  her  in  his  arms. 
The  Vestal  stood  quiet  and  composed,  and  as  he  ap- 
proached her,  she  suddenly  seized  the  short  sword  at 
his  side,  and  ere  he  was  aware  of  the  action,  he  felt  it 
penetrate  his  body.  He  instantly  started  back,  and  by 
the  act  drew  the  blade  from  the  wound.  A  gush  of 
blood  followed.  Turning  again  towards  her,  as  she 
stood  with  the  countenance  of  an  inspired  Sybil,  hold- 
ing aloft  the  reeking  blade,  he  muttered  mingled  curses 
and  vows  of  vengeance,  as  he  departed  from  the  cell. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  123 

Meantime,  a  different  scene  was  presented  at  another 
part  of  the  city.  Cennius  and  his  wife,  believing  like 
all  the  rest,  in  the  guilt  of  their  child,  resolved  in  the 
first  burst  of  their  indignation  to  let  her  perish.  But 
the  mother  soon  resumed  its  influence  over  the  woman  ; 
and  in  the  gush  of  her  returning  fondness,  she  resolved 
to  have  recourse,  if  possible,  to  the  only  power  that 
could  now  avail  to  save  her  child — the  Emperor.  He 
had  been  represented  as  mild  and  wise  ;  and  although 
the  jealousy,  the  crimes,  the  cruelty,  and  the  base  de- 
sires that  he  afterwards  displayed,  as  yet  lay  compara- 
tively in  embryo  in  his  character,  yet  startling  traits  of 
them  even  now  were  occasionally  exhibited. 

The  old  knight,  Cennius,  with  difficulty  obtained 
permission  for  an  interview.  It  was  therefore  with  a 
beating  heart,  that  with  his  wife,  Favella,  he  repaired 
to  the  temporary  palace  of  the  Emperor  at  the  appoint- 
ed time.  The  guards  at  the  door  directed  them  to  an 
ante-room,  where  they  were  compelled  to  wait  while  an 
officer  went  to  learn  if  the  Emperor  was  at  leisure  to 
receive  them.  On  his  return,  he  motioned  to  Cennius 
to  remain  where  he  was,  while  his  wife  should  proceed 
with  him.  After  crossing  several  rooms  and  passages, 
a  door  was  thrown  open  in  a  large  room,  filled  with 
soldiers.  A  few  of  them  were  on  duty  before  the  doors 
of  the  apartment ;  the  rest  were  idly  lounging  about, 
some  collected  in  knots  listening  to  the  stories  or  jests 
of  their  comrades  ;  others  were  lounging  in  listless  soli- 
tude or  dozing,  as  they  lay  reclining  upon  a  bench  that 
surrounded  the  apartment ;  others  appeared  to  be  en- 
gaged in  grave  and  serious  debate.  But  one  thing  was 
observable  amid  all  their  conversation,  and  that  was 


124  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

the  suppressed  tones  which  all  employed.  It  indicated 
the  neighborhood  of  the  emperor.  The  officer  who 
accompanied  Favella  passed  through  the  large  hall, 
whose  beautiful  mosaic  floor  might  well  adorn  an  Em- 
peror's apartment,  to  a  door  at  the  opposite  end  of  the 
room.  Passing  between  the  two  sentinels. on  duty,  at  a 
signal  made  to  a  man  who  stood  before  the  door,  it  was 
thrown  open  and  discovered  a  rather  small  apartment, 
hung  round  with  mirrors35  of  highly  polished  metal. 
At  a  table,  at  the  extremity  of  the  room,  sat  a  man  with 
a  good  open  expression  of  countenance,  his  forehead 
high,  and  his  nose  approaching  to  aquiline. 

The  matronly  form  of  Favella  was  clad  in  sordid 
weeds,  and  there  was  a  dignity  in  the  manner  in  which 
she  approached  and  knelt  before  the  Emperor,36  who 
started  back  suspiciously,  as  in  the  earnestness  of  ma- 
ternal zeal  she  approached  nearer  to  his  person  than 
he  was  accustomed  to  permit.  He  was  the  first  to 
begin  the  conversation. 

"  Lady,  what  would  you  with  the  Emperor  1 " 

The  assumed  calmness  and  dignity  of  the  woman 
was  prostrated  in  an  instant  before  the  workings  of  ma- 
ternal sorrow,  and  she  burst  into  tears  as  she  replied, 
"  The  life  of  my  child." 

"  Your  child  has  been  capitally  condemned  by  the 
college  of  Pontifices.  I  cannot  interfere  in  that  busi- 
ness." 

"  She  is  innocent,  she  is  innocent ; "  repeated  the 
unhappy  woman,  almost  unconscious  of  what  she  was 
uttering.  "  My  lord,  spare,  I  beseech  you,  as  you  too 
would  hope  for  mercy  from  the  just  gods,  spare  the 
innocent  and  the  helpless." 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  125 

"  Can  you  prove  her  innocence  1  " 

"  Pardon  me  my  lord,  can  you  prove  her  guilt?  " 

"The  nature  of  the  crime  scarcely  admits  of  direct 
proof,  but  circumstantial  evidence  was  abundant.  But 
the  gods  themselves  have  taken  the  proof  into  their  own 
hands,  and  supplied  miraculously  the  evidence  that  was 
wanting.  Matho  has  given  me  a  full  account  of  it,  and 
the  Vestals  one  and  all  can  witness,  that  while  she 
protested  that  water  had  been  poured  from  the  oil-flask 
into  the  Vestal  lamp,  and  that  the  oil-jar  was  empty, 
the  lamp  was  found  filled  with  oil,  the  flask  contained 
not  a  drop  of  water,  and  the  oil-jar  was  full." 

The  unhappy  mother  heard,  what  she  knew  before 
but  too  well,  in  hopeless  despondency  ;  then  breaking 
into  a  passionate  burst  of  feeling,  she  succeeded  ap- 
parently for  a  moment  in  rousing  the  attention  even  of 
the  cold-hearted  Emperor.  But  he  soon  became  indif- 
ferent to  the  novel  excitement,  and  bade  her  seek  the 
mercy  of  the  Pontifex  Maximus. 

"  My  lord,  you  too  may  become  a  father,  and  in  the 
hour  of  your  need,  may  call  for  mercy  as  imploringly 
as  I  do  now.  May  the  gods  grant  that  it  be  not  as 
vainly — that  when  the  hoary  head  and  the  feeble 
limbs  shall  need  the  comfort  that  golden  crowns  and 
imperial  robes  cannot  give — that  when  the  heart,  the 
weary  heart,  shall  turn  aching  and  sickening  away 
from  the  hollowness  of  pomp  to  the  solid  empire  of  the 
affections — that  when  you  have  learned  the  sad  lesson 
that  the  myriads  that  bow  before  you,  are  not  of  equal 
value  with  one  faithful  heart— and  you  will  learn  that 
lesson — when  you  shall  yourself  have  tasted  of  the 
fruits  that  merciful  deeds  have  planted — and  you  will 
11* 


126  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

need  that  mercy — that  the  prayers  and  the  thanks  of  a 
grateful  mother,  of  a  family  redeemed  from  shame,  may 
plead  for  you  before  the  the  throne  of  Jove,  and  at  any 
tribunal  that  earthly  power  may  ever  erect  for  you." 

Favella  paused,  for  the  Emperor's  whole  soul  was  at 
that  moment  engaged  in  the  act  of  catching  a  fly,37 
that  unhappily  for  himself  had  settled  near  him  ;  and  it 
was  sufficiently  obvious  that  he  heard  not  a  syllable  that 
she  was  uttering.  Perhaps  it  was  fortunate  for  her  that 
it  was  so,  as  the  allusion  to  any  tribunal  to  which  he 
might  become  accountable  was  not  likely  to  be  very 
agreeable  to  the  jealous  Emperor.  Holding  up  the 
captive  fly  with  great  glee,  he  proceeded  to  kill  him 
with  a  bodkin  that  lay  on  the  table  beside  him. 

"  My  lord,"  uttered  the  astonished  Favella  after  a 
pause,  "  may  I  not  hope  for  mercy?  To  grant  mercy 
is  to  insure  its  being  received  for  ourselves." 

"  And  what  need  can  I  have  of  mercy  1  " 

"  The  fate  of  the  first  Caesar,  great  as  he  was,  not 
to  mention  others  of  your  august  family,  is  the  best 
answer  I  can  give  you." 

The  brow  of  Domitian  became  dark  at  this  palpable 
allusion  to  the  frequent  assassinations  in  the -family  of 
the  Caesars;  the  fate  he  so  much  dreaded,  against 
which  he  took  so  many  precautions,  yet  which  he  was 
nevertheless  destined  to  undergo. 

Giving  a  signal  to  his  guards,  she  was  instantly  ush- 
ered from  his  presence. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  127 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

EARLY  on  the  morning  appointed  for  the  execution 
of  Lucilla  she  was  roused  by  the  opening  of  her  heavy 
prison  door,  and  Favella  appeared,  bearing  a  lamp  in 
her  hand.  In  the  presence  of  the  Emperor  she  had 
made  a  strong  effort  to  appear  calm  and  collected. 
She  thought  of  Lucilla  as  of  one  who  had  forfeited,  by 
misconduct  the  most  flagrant,  the  place  she  had  hith- 
erto held  in  her  heart,  and  she  endeavoured  to  forget 
that  she  was  a  mother.  But  that  time  had  passed  by  ; 
and  she  stood  now  before  her  child,  soon  to  be  hers  no 
longer,  bowed  down  beneath  the  heavy  burden  of  a 
mother's  sorrow.  She  saw  before  her  now  not  the  sac- 
rilegious and  fallen  Vestal,  but  her  own  helpless  child, 
still  dear,  even  amid  dishonor  and  death. 

The  unhappy  woman  wept  as  she  hung  over  her 
daughter,  and  Lucilla's  eyes  were  not  dry. 

"  My  poor  child  !  "  she  at  length  exclaimed,  "  how 
little  did  I  think  when  we  last  parted,  that  our  next 
meeting  should  be  here  and  thus." 

"  Better  here  and  thus  in  innocence,  than  before  the 
altar  in  splendor  and  guilt." 

"  Innocence  !  "  faintly  articulated  Favella. 

"  Yes  !  innocence  ;"  proudly  repeated  Lucilla. 

"  Are  you  indeed  innocent,  my  child  1  Say  but  that 
you  are — say  that  hereafter  when  I  think  upon  my  child 
I  may  lament  the  injustice  that  has  thus  rent  my  heart, 
but  not  the  shame  that  has  blasted  a  spotless  name — 
but  tell  me  that  though  I  must  weep,  I  need  not  blush 
for  her,  and  oh  !  how  I  will  bless  you  !  " 

"  Then  bless  me,  my  mother,  for  I  am  innocent." 


128  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

"  Dare  you  swear  it,  Lucilla,  swear  it  by  the  throne 
of  Pluto  and  the  gloomy  Styx  1 " 

"  Mother,  I  dare  swear  it  by  the  throne  of  God." 
"  Yet,  you  acknowledge  yourself  a  Christian  ?  " 
"  I  do — but  in  that  do  I  acknowledge  no  crime." 
"  Well,  I  bless  the  gods  that  even  a  drop  of  mercy  is 
mingled  in  this  brimming,  burning  cup." 

"  Yes  !  mother  ;  and  it  is  well  as  it  is.  My  convic- 
tions would  not  have  permitted  me,  a  Christian,  to 
remain  the  priestess  of  an  idol.  An  hour  of  parting  at 
any  rate  must  soon  have  come,  and  this  is  no  more. 
Be  thankful  that  the  flower  is  culled  at  once,  and  not 
left  broken  upon  its  stem,  to  drown  in  the  dews,  and  per- 
ish in  the  sunshine,  and  to  hang  lingering  yet  withering 
beneath  its  parental  shelter.  Grieve  not,  I  say,  that  I 
depart  at  once  ;  leaving  to  life's  after  years  no  painful 
remembrance  cleaving  to  the  unweaned  heart — but 
rather  rejoice  that  the  flower  drooped  not  till  it  was 
laid  low — that  the  light,  brief  and  faint  as  it  was,  was 
unclouded  to  its  setting. 

"  My  tears  are  less  bitter  now,  Lucilla." 
"  Shall  I  not  see  my  father  and  my  sisters  before  the 
horrid  hour  comes,  mother  ?  " 

"  Yes,  your  father,  perhaps,  my  child — but  there  are 
pangs  that  only  a  mother  can  bear — deep  agony,  con- 
quered by  deeper  love.  But  tell  me  how  it  is  that  ap- 
pearances are  so  strong  against  you  if  innocent,  as  I 
doubt  not  you  are." 

"  The  villain  Matho  had  the  presumption  to  speak 
to  me  of  his  lawless  love ;  aware,  that,  as  he  knew  of 
my  conversion,  I  should  not  dare  to  have  him  punished. 
The  response  of  the  oracle,  the  water  in  the  oil-jar — all 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  129 

in  short  was  his  work — nay,  only  last  evening  he  again 
came  to  this  dungeon,  and  offered  me  not  only  libera- 
tion, but  new  and  increased  Tionors,  if  I  would  consent 
to  his  wishes  ;  and  when  he  met  the  repulse  that  I  be- 
lieve he  expected  not  in  my  miserable  situation,  the 
unmanly  villain  even  attempted  force  ;  but  I  plunged 
his  own  sword  into  his  body,  and  he  has  now  left  me, 
I  trust,  to  my  fate." 

"  Matho  !  the  miserable  favorite  of  the  tyrant  Em- 
peror ?  But  there  shall  be  a  day  of  reckoning  if  he 
escape  the  effects  of  your  blow." 

"  No,  mother ;  vengeance  is  not  for  man.  There  is 
a  power  that  will  punish  the  guilty  ;  to  Him  only  ven- 
geance belongeth." 

A  noise  of  the  prison  doors  again  opening  interrupt- 
ed the  conversation.  Both  knew  but  too  well  the 
meaning  of  those  sounds.  The  mother  threw  herself 
upon  her  daughter's  neck,  and  wept  in  the  bitterness 
of  hopeless  despair. 

There  are  moments  when  even  the  boldest  spirit 
quails  before  the  near  inevitable  approach  of  the  king 
of  terrors.  What  wonder  then  if  a  young  and  timid 
girl  should  shrink  for  a  moment  from  the  tremendous 
fate  that  awaited  her.  It  was  but  for  a  moment,  how- 
ever ;  and  when  the  lictors  and  jailor  had  entered 
the  dungeon,  she  stood  before  them  calm,  collected, 
and  resigned.  Criers  had  already  been  throughout 
the  city,  announcing  the  crime  of  Lucilla  and  its 
intended  punishment.  Guarded  by  lictors,  she  fol- 
lowed the  jailor  from  the  cell.  A  crowd  of  weeping 
friends  were  collected  around  the  door,  who,  following 
in  the  melancholy  train,  accompanied  her  to  the  tern- 


130  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

pie  of  Vesta,  whither  the  lictors  were  conducting  her. 
As  they  passed  along,  every  house-top  was  crowded, 
and  every  door-step  lined  with  spectators.  Curiosity 
and  horror  seemed  contending  for  the  mastery  in  every 
breast.  The  passengers  whom  they  met  in  the  crowd- 
ed streets,  would  stand  aside  and  gather  up  their  gar- 
ments, as  if  afraid  of  pollution  from  the  very  earth  on 
which  she  trod.  Others  turned  their  backs  upon  the 
passing  girl,  and  with  uplifted  hands  and  arms  seemed 
calling  down  protection  from  Jove  against  the  sacri- 
legious apostate.  Even  the  children  ran  affrighted 
away,  though  they  knew  not  why,  and  seizing  their 
mother's  robes  ventured  to  look  back  over  their  should- 
ers at  the  dreadful  sight. 

Arrived  at  the  temple  of  Vesta,  the  whole  college  of 
Pohtitices  stood  around  the  door,  the  temple  being  too 
small  to  contain  them.  The  Pontifex  Maximus,  with 
the  Vestals,  stood  within  the  temple,  whither  Lucilla  was 
conducted,  and  there  before  the  altar,  the  sacred  fillets 
were  taken  from  her  head,  and  the  Vestal  robes  from 
her  person,  and  she  was  clad  in  a  long,  white,  mourning- 
robe.  A  litter,  or  rather  bier,  was  then  brought,  a 
kind  of  deep  chest  or  coffin,  made  to  close  with  the 
greatest  exactness  and  strength,  in  order  that  the  com- 
passion of  the  multitude  need  not  be  excited  by  her 
cries.  This  litter  was  borne  by  means  of  two  poles 
connected  with  its  sides.  Into  this  Jitter  she  was  com- 
pelled to  mount,  and  stretch  herself  at  length.  The 
lid  was  then  closed  and  secured  by  the  Pontifex  Maxi- 
mus, and  the  melancholy  procession  again  proceeded 
on  its  course.  Going  out  at  the  Herculanean  gate,  it 
passed  through  the  street  of  tombs  for  a  short  distance, 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  131 

then  turning  off  to  the  right,  after  a  few  minutes'  walk 
the  procession  stopped  on  an  open  plain.  Beside  a  place 
where  a  quantity  of  fresh  earth  had  been  thrown  up,  a 
couple  of  lictors  were  seen  slowing  pacing  backward 
and  forward.  Here  the  litter  was  set  down.  The 
earth  that  was  thrown  up  there  had  covered  a  square 
stone,  which  closed  the  mouth  of  a  subterranean  cav- 
ern or  tomb.  The  end  of  a  ladder  was  seen  projecting 
from  the  mouth  of  the  tomb.  At  its  side  lay  the  heavy 
stone  that  was  to  seal  jts  entrance,  and  around  lay 
spades  and  other  implements  for  covering  it  with 
earth.  The  Pontifex  Maximus  now  advanced  and 
opened  the  litter,  muttering  at  the  same  time  certain 
prayers  in  a  low  voice.  Taking  the  hand  of  Lucilla, 
he  assisted  her  to  descend  from  the  litter,  and  gave  her 
over  to  the  executioner.  The  multitude  pressed  not 
around  the  spot,  but  at  a  distance  seemed  watching  the 
horrid  ceremony  ;  some  on  their  knees  with  their  faces 
averted  from  the  direction  of  Lucilla ;  others,  curiosity 
half  prevailing  over  horror,  fled,  yet  turned  their  heads 
still  toward  the  scene  of  execution,  under  the  influence 
of  that  fearful  fascination  which  almost  every  one  at 
times  has  felt,  compelling  them  to  witness  what  it  is 
nevertheless  horror  to  behold.  But  this  was  not  the  case 
with  all.  A  few  there  still  were  who,  despite  the  hor- 
rors of  the  scene,  pressed  forward  to  utter  their  last 
farewells,  and  to  gather  yet  a  parting  word  from  lips  so 
soon  to  be  silent. 

Lucilla  herself  seemed  the  least  moved  of  any  ;  and 
though  when  folded  in  her  father's  arms  for  the  last 
time,  the  struggling  feelings  of  nature  triumphed  for  a 
moment,  yet  it  was  but  for  a  moment.  "  My  father," 


132  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

she  said,  "  at  this  solemn  hour  hear  me  protest  my  in- 
nocence of  the  crime  for  which  I  am  about  to  suffer. 
Carry  to  my  mother  my  dying  remembrance  and  love, 
and  let  this  hour  remain  in  your  memory  through  the 
after  years,  but  without  its  bitterness." 

The  sturdy  old  knight  wept  like  a  child  over  her 
whom  he  had  so  lately  believed  guilty,  and  whom  now 
with  the  strong  reaction  of  returning  parental  love,  he 
considered  as  a  martyr  in  the  cause  of  virtue. 

"  Lucilla,  I  believed  you  guilty  till  I  heard  the  his- 
tory of  your  wrongs  from  your  mother.  I  little  dream- 
ed when  I  heard  the  evidence  against  you,  that  I  would 
ever  have  raised  a  finger  to  save  you  from  your  fate. 
But  this  is  a  trial  to  bring  down  the  proud  man's  pride, 
and  the  strong  man's  strength.  But  I  will  drink  of  the 
cup  of  vengeance  yet,  ay,  in  despite  of  the  Emperor 
himself." 

The  executioners  here  interposed,  warning  them 
that  the  time  was  passing,  and  that  they  could  allow  no 
longer  conference. 

Lucilla  threw  herself  into  her  father's  arms,  and 
hung  for  a  moment  upon  his  neck.  "  It  is  the  last 
time,"  she  murmured,  "  the  last  time  I  shall  see  the 
light  of  a  father's  face,  or  feel  the  warmth  of  a  father's 
love.  Remember  me  amid  the  bright  and  happy  hours 
that  life  may  yet  have  for  you — remember  me,  father." 
"  Speak  not  of  happy  hours  to  a  broken-hearted  pa- 
rent. Alas  !  you  have  little  need  to  bid  me  remember 
you." 

"  Not  so,  my  father.  I  would  not  have  my  memory 
to  be  dwelt  on  as  men  look  upon  a  black  and  angry 
cloud  hanging  in  the  blue  and  quiet  sky  ;  but  think  of 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  133 

me  as  one  living  and  in  the  midst  of  you  still.  Let  the 
room  that  you  have  called  Lucilla's,  be  called  so  still, 
and  tell  Cornelia  to  cultivate  the  flowers  I  planted,  as 
if  I  were  still  there  to  watch  them.  Let  my  memory 
recur  to  you  as  the  echoings  of  distant  music  float  over 
the  waters  at  midnight,  stealing  upon  the  sleeper's  ear 
in  notes  too  soft  to  disturb  his  repose.  Farewell,  my 
father.  May  the  Christian's  God  protect  you." 

The  executioner  again  interposed  to  hasten  the  part- 
ing hour.  Again  she  was  locked  in  the  close  embrace 
of  her  father,  then  addressing  herself  with  dignity  to  the 
executioner,  she  said,  with  a  firm  voice — "  I  am  ready." 
The  unhappy  father  turned  away  in  agony  from  the 
spot,  and  insensibility  saved  him  from  witnessing  the 
last  distressing  scene.  Lucilla,  meantime,  assisted  by 
the  executioner,  stepped  upon  the  fatal  ladder,  and 
.with  a  firm  bearing  descended  into  the  living  tomb 
destined  to  receive  her.  A  small  bed  was  then  lower- 
ered  into  it,  upon  which  she  was  seated.  A  table 
was  placed  beside  it,  on  which  was  a  lamp  burn- 
ing. A  small  flask  of  oil,  a  loaf,  a  little  milk,  and 
a  little  water,  were  then  placed  upon  the  table.  Im- 
mediately the  ladder  was  drawn  up  from  the  tomb. 
The  assistants  applied  strong  iron  bars  to  the  heavy 
stone,  and  at  length  succeeded  in  heaving  the  weighty 
mass  over  the  mouth  of  the  opening,  and  closing  the 
light  of  day  upon  the  unhappy  girl.  In  a  few  moments 
the  rattling  of  the  gravel  was  heard  as  it  fell  heavily 
upon  the  broad  stone,  the  hollow  ground  giving  forth  a 
sullen  echo  to  the  first  few  shovelfuls  of  earth  that 
struck  upon  it.  This  sound  gradually  ceased  as  the 
earth  settled  deeper  and  deeper  over  the  spot,  till  at 
12 


134  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

length  the  last  shovelful  was  thrown  over  it.  It  was 
then  carefully  smoothed  over  by  the  assistants.  The 
crowd  gradually  dispersed,  and  at  last  nothing  was 
seen  about  the  place,  except  two  lictors,  who  paced 
slowly  backward  and  forward  to  prevent  any  one  from 
attempting  her  liberation.  > 

The  Pontifices  now  returned  to  the  temple,  before 
which  an  expiatory  sacrifice  was  made.  The  Pontifex 
Maximus  then  took  a  large  convex  lens,  and  stood  be- 
side an  altar  on  which  the  sacred  lamp  was  placed. 
The  Vestals  stood  around  it.  The  wick  was  made  wet 
with  some  combustible  substance,  and  after  the  most 
solemn  invocations,  libations,  and  prayers  by  the  Pon- 
tifex Maximus,  the  rays  of  the  sun,  collected  by  the 
lens,  were  brought  to  a  focus  upon  the  wick.  It  soon 
began  to  smoke  and  in  a  few  minutes  flamed  up  on 
high.  The  air  was  instantly  rent  with  acclamations  ; 
sacrifices  were  again  made,  and  the  sacred  lamp  was 
taken  up  by  the  Vestals  with  great  pomp  and  carried 
in  procession  to  the  temple,  where  it  was  again  placed 
upon  the  altar. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

WHEN  the  ceremony  was  near  being  completed,  Ju- 
lius joined  me  in  the  cavern.  He  had  heard  the  whole 
account  of  Matho's  villany,  and  his  spirit  was  boiling 
with  revenge.  I  should  not  have  believed  it  possible 
that  his  ordinarily  mild  and  gentle  character  could 
have  been  so  thoroughly  and  so  terribly  roused.  But  vio- 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  135 

lent  as  was  the  excitement  he  manifested,  mine  I  confess 
was  not  less  ;  and  I  know  not  of  what  desperate  extrav- 
agance we  might  have  been  guilty,  had  not  a  message 
that  he  himself  brought  from  Vetullius  fortunately  hinted 
to  us,  as  we  thought,  that  the  punishment  of  Matho  was 
in  his  power.  The  forgiving  doctrines  of  Christianity 
were  forgotten  by  both  of  us,  and  the  only  thought  that 
animated  us  was  revenge — the  most  signal,  and  the 
most  implacable.  We  waited  with  excessive  impa- 
tience, till  darkness  should  bring  Vetullius  to  the  cav- 
ern. A  hundred  times  we  cursed  the  lazy  progress  of 
the  sun,  and  almost  thought  that  another  Joshua  had 
commanded  him  to  stand  still. 

Time,  however,  idler  as  he  seemed,  at  length  brought 
the  desired  hour.  Vetullius  appeared,  and  with  him 
the  last  man  we  should  have  expected  to  see  there 
and  with  Vetullius — Caius  Marcus. 

"  There,"  said  the  latter,  as  .he  threw  from  his 
shoulders  a  large  basket  heavily  laden,  "  since  prison- 
ers you  must  be,  voluntary  or  involuntary,  it  is  fitting 
you  should  .have  something  better  than  bread  and  wa- 
ter. It  grieved  me  to  think  on  the  pinched  and  starv- 
ing condition  of  your  strong-hold,  and  while  I  was 
sweating  under  a  porter's  load  of  wine  and  chickens, 
Vetullius  was  talking  about  spiritual  food.  What  he 
meant  I  know  not;  but  I  thought  to  myself  if  he  had  but 
seen  the  zeal  of  the  onset  that  you  made  bodily  at  the 
temple  the  other  day,  he  would  have  had  some  reason 
to  think  that  the  food,  whatever  it  is,  should  be  solid." 
Vetullius  sighed  at  what  he  thought  the  blinded  con- 
dition of  Marcus,  and  taking  the  torch  led  the  way 
to  the  inner  part  of  .the  cavern.  Then  directing  Julius 


136  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

and  myself  to  take  the  digging  implements  that  had 
been  carefully  concealed  ever  since  they  had  been  first 
brought,  he  bade  us  follow  him.  We  obeyed  in  silence, 
as  he  led  the  way  through  one  of  the  many  long  pas- 
sages that  branched  off  in  various  directions.  Although 
these  passages  or  galleries  were  numerous  and  intri- 
cate, Vetullius  moved  along  them  as  one  well  acquaint- 
ed with  them,  till  at  length  he  stopped  at  a  part  where 
several  of  the  passages  meeting  formed  an  open  place  in 
which  we  could  stand  upright  with  ease.  Here  Vetul- 
lius began  to  study  carefully,  by  the  aid  of  his  torch, 
the  stone  walls.  At  length  he  seemed  to  have  discov- 
ered what  he  sought  for,  and  planting  the  torch  in  the 
earth,  he  called  our  attention  to  the  wall  he  had  been 
examining.  It  consisted  like  the  rest,  of  a  soft  stone, 
brittle,  and  in  many  places  split,  readily  crumbling  be- 
neath heavy  blows. 

"  Now,"  said  the  old  man,  "  as  you  value  sister  or 
friend,  break  away  this  mass." 

Stimulated  by  such  an  object,  you  will  readily  con- 
ceive that  we  were  not  sluggish  in  our  exertions.  The 
ponderous  strength  of  the  jolly  priest  was  bestowed  with 
as  apparent  good  will  as  our  own  ;  although  he  was  in- 
stantly aware  of  the  object  of  our  exertions,  and  must 
of  course  himself  suffer  a  terrible  punishment,  should 
his  part  in  the  business  ever  be  discovered.  Yet,  with 
all  our  exertions,  our  progress  was  but  slow.  Fre- 
quently were  we  obliged  to  stop,  panting  and  exhaust- 
ed, "and  frequent  were  the  visits  which  Marcus  paid  to 
his  own  wine  flask. 

"  By  Bacchus ! "  he  exclaimed,  as  he  threw  down 
his  heavy  drill  and  wiped  away  the  sweat  from  his 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  137 

reeking  brow  with  the  corner  of  his  robe,  "  the  Ponti- 
fices  would  condemn  but  few  to  be  buried  in  this  man- 
ner, if  they  had  themselves  to  dig  them  out  again. 
Why,  as  to  a  ghost  ever  finding  its  way  out  of  such  a 
Cretan  labyrinth,  old  Pluto  himself  could  never  do  it." 
At  this  moment  the  part  of  the  wall  against  which  I 
had  been  drilling  suddenly  yielded,  and  my  drill  was 
driven  half  its  length  into  soft  earth.  A  cry  of  joy  an- 
nounced my  success,  and  we  soon  found  that  a  large 
fragment  of  the  rock  was  loosened.  Drills  and  levers 
were  all  instantly  at  work.  Even  old  Vetulliu§  applied 
his  feeble  strength  to  aid  in  the  effort  to  force  it  from 
its  place.  But  our  exertions  were  for  a  long  time  vain, 
till  Marcus,  by  a  sudden  effort  of  his  powerful  frame, 
succeeded  in  starting  it  from  its  position.  Again  our 
united  strength  was  applied,  and  the  ponderous  mass, 
slowly  sliding  from  its  place,  at  last  trembled  on  an 
even  balance.  "  Now,"  said  Marcus,  "  together  ; " 
and  with  another  strong  effort  the  heavy  fragment  slip- 
ped from  its  place,  and  rolled  upon  the  floor.  But  it 
fell  not  alone.  Another  and  yet  another  came  tumbling 
after  it,  followed  by  a  mass  of  earth  that  at  once  blind- 
ed and  buried  us.  An  exclamation  of  "  By  Vulcan," 
was  buried  as  it  were,  in  the  very  mouth  of  the  priest, 
as  he  was  in  the  act  of  raising  his  heavy  drill  for  an- 
other blow.  After  the  dust  and  confusion  had  a  little 
subsided,  we  all  came  crawling  from  the  earth  that  had 
covered  us,  no  one  fortunately  having  been  injured, 
and  proceeded  in  our  business.  Vetullius  cautioned 
us  now  against  speaking  loud,  lest  we  should  be  heard 
by  the  lictors  who  were  guarding  the  tomb  on  the 
outside.  After  clearing  away  the  rubbish  a  little, 
•  12* 


138  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

we  proceeded  more  carefully.  Removing  the  scat- 
tered earth  through  the  rent,  we  had  soon  excavat- 
ed a  place  sufficiently  large  to  stand  erect  in,  and 
continue  our  labor  on  the  other  side.  After  an  hour's 
work,  I  thought  I  heard,  indistinctly  indeed,  the  sound 
of  a  voice.  I  listened  with  the  most  intense  earnest- 
ness. It  was  distant  and  seemed  smothered,  but  I 
readily  recognised  the  soft  tones  of  Lucilla's  voice, 
which  sounded  as  if  above  me.  We  instantly  began 
digging  upward  in  the  direction  whence  it  seemed  to 
proceed.  Gradually  the  voice  sounded  louder  and  more 
distinct,  and  at  length  it  seemed  clearly  and  directly 
above  us.  We  were,  therefore,  obliged  to  scrape  the 
earth  over  our  heads,  though  with  great  precaution, 
lest  it  should  suddenly  yield  and  fall  in  upon  us.  With 
the  aid  of  a  long  drill  we  bored  upwards,  till  at  length 
it  suddenly  slipped  up  as  if  encountering  no  further 
resistance.  Upon  withdrawing  it,  a  faint  light  was 
seen  to  glimmer  through  the  narrow  aperture  form- 
ed by  the  instrument.  The  song  of  Lucilla  ceased, 
and  applying  my  mouth  to  the  hole  I  called  upon  her 
by  name.  She  instantly  replied.  If  we  were  active 
before  in  our  search,  judge  what  we  now  were  when  we 
could  communicate  directly  with  herself.  Every  in- 
strument and  every  hand  was  occupied.  The  earth 
from  above  our  heads  served  still  to  raise  our  feet 
and  prevent  the  roof  from  getting  beyond  our  reach 
as  we  scraped  the  earth  thence.  Our  zeal  soon 
got  the  better  of  our  prudence,  and  in  a  short  time  the 
floor  of  the  Vestal's  tomb  yielded  and  fell  in  ;  and 
when  we  were  a  second  time  extricated  from  the  un- 
pleasant situation,  Lucilla  herself  was  amongst  us. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  139 

It  is  not  in  my  power  to  express  the  rapture  I  felt  at 
this  event.  The  very  grave  had  yawned,  as  it  were,  and 
given  up  its  dead.  1  believe  at  that  moment  I  could 
have  forgiven  Matho  himself.  Julius  folded  her  in  his 
arms,  and  Vetullius  offered  his  thanks  where  only  they 
were  due.  As  for  Marcus,  after  shaking  her  heartily 
by  the  hand,  he  had  taken  her  lamp  and  table  and  dis- 
appeared. We  were  all  too  much  occupied  with  our 
own  feelings  to  notice  his  departure  ;  but  when  at 
length  the  turbulence  of  our  joy  was  a  little  subsided, 
we  took  her  bed,  oil,  and  provisions,  and  led  by  Vetul- 
lius retired  to  the  part  of  the  cavern  we  commonly  oc- 
cupied. Here  we  found  Marcus  sitting  at  the  little 
table  that  had  been  left  in  the  tomb  with  Lucilla,  com- 
forting himself  with  his  favorite  repast,  for  the  toil,  by 
no  means  a  favorite,  that  he  had  sustained.  His  own 
chickens,  eggs,  and  wine,  were  spread  upon  the  table ; 
and  to  say  sooth  we  did  not  long  leave  him  to  a  soli- 
tary discussion  of  them. 

Lucilla  informed  us  that  she  had  heard  us  at  work 
a  long  time  before  the  drill  made  its  entrance  into  her 
cell ;  but  at  first  she  had  supposed  it  to  be  Vesuvius, 
whose  deep  and  hollow  bellowings  had  for  some  time 
been  uttered  in  a  most  menacing  manner  ;  that  after 
she  suspected  the  truth,  she  began  to  sing,  in  order  by 
her  voice  to  guide  us  to  her,  as  calling  might  have 
caused  suspicion  in  the  guard  above.  She,  however, 
doubted  of  our  ultimate  success,  until  she  saw  the  drill 
working  its  way  up  through  the  floor. 

Marcus,  the  activity  of  whose  tongue  and  stomach 
were  always  in  an  inverse  proportion  to  each  other, 
now  began  once  more  to  find  the  use  of  the  former. 


140  TALE  OF   POMPEII. 

"  By  Hermes,  Lucilla,  I  have  not  had  so  good  an  appe- 
tite before,  since  the  time  when  I  was  starved  as  a  Neo- 
phyte, in  order,  as  I  suppose  (for  I  never  could  see  any 
other  benefit  that  I  derived  from  it),  to  give  me  a  good 
permanent  appetite  when  I  became  a  Hierophant. 
For  my  own  part,  I  should  be  glad  to  dig  you  up  every 
day,  could  I  always  be  sure  of  as  hearty  a  meal  after  it." 

"  I  thank  you,"  replied  Lucilla ;  "but  for  my  own 
part,  I  freely  confess  that  if  your  appetite  requires  such 
a  whet,  I  should  greatly  prefer  that  it  should  have  a 
different  subject." 

" No  need  of  that,"  he  returned.  "Experience  is 
always  the  best  teacher  of  what  is  good  for  us,  and  I 
assure  you,  you  serve  the  purpose  well  enough.  No, 
no,  depend  upon  it,  there  is  nothing  like  digging  out  a 
Vestal  to  give  a  priest  of  Isis  a  good  appetite." 

"  I  am  not  disposed  to  contest  the  point,"  replied 
Lucilla  ;  "  but  I  must  request  you,  my  excellent  friend, 
to  oblige  me  so  far  as  to  see  my  parents,  and  alleviate 
the  anguish  they  must  feel  on  my  account." 

"  Ay,  ay,"  he  returned.  "  But  as  yet  the  business 
is  but  half  done  ;  you. will  never  be  safe  while  you  are 
in  Pompeii.  For  should  any  thing  be  suspected,  the 
tomb  will  be  searched  and  your  escape  be  discovered, 
unless  indeed  they  should  chance  to  take  it  into  their 
heads  that  you  were  innocent  after  all,  in  consideration 
of  which  Vesta  had  translated  you  bag  and  baggage." 

After  some  consultation,  it  was  agreed  that  our 
method  of  escape  should  be  intrusted  to  Marcus  and 
Julius ;  for  until  the  latter  should  be  publicly  de- 
nounced, it  was  not  thought  necessary  that  he  should 
keep  himself  in  close  confinement.  Marcus  was  to 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  141 

find  some  bark  going  to  Neapolis,  which  Julius  was  to 
engage,  in  order,  in  case  of  discovery,  that  Marcus 
might  incur  no  danger.  A  place  of  rendezvous  was 
then  appointed  between  them,  without  the  city,  for  the 
evening  of  the  coming  day,  after  which  he  departed. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


PUNCTUAL  to  the  appointed  hour  the  next  evening, 
Julius  sallied  forth  to  the  place  of  meeting.  Marcus 
was  already  there.  He  had  been  strolling  along  the 
shore,  and  by  artfully  conversing  with  the  boatmen,  he 
had  discovered  a  light  barge  which  he  thought  would 
answer  the  purpose,  and  which  was  then  unengaged. 
Julius,  therefore,  instantly  went  to  the  spot  described 
by  Marcus,  and  readily  engaged  the  boat,  intending  at 
Neapolis  to  dismiss  the  man,  and  engage  another  from 
that  port,  which  might  serve  to  baffle  any  inquiries  or 
search  that  might  be  made.  Julius  appointed  the 
place,  and  where  and  when  the  boat  should  be  in  read- 
iness the  following  evening.  Returning  joyfully  to 
the  cavern,  he  met  a  man  whom  he  instantly  recognis- 
ed as  Matho.  He  appeared  as  usual,  occupied  with  his 
own  sullen  thoughts,  and  Julius,  who  at  that  moment 
had  every  possible  motive  to  avoid  both  recognition 
and  a  quarrel  with  him,  though  burning  with  rage  at 
the  sight  of  him,  passed  silently  by.  He  was  well 
aware  of  the  true  cause  of  Matho's  forbearing  so  long 
to  denounce  him  as  a  Christian  ;  which  was,  that  he 
hoped  by  him,  in  some  way  to  discover  my  place  of 


142  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

concealment,  for  he  felt  assured  that  I  was  still  con- 
cealed somewhere  in  the  neighbourhood.  Il  was  not, 
therefore,  without  some  suspicion,  that  Julius  from 
time  to  time  looked  back  to  see  if  he  were  not  followed 
by  Matho.  Although  the  darkness  did  not  permit  him 
to  see  far,  yet  he  felt  more  assured  when  unable  to 
perceive  any  thing  to  confirm  his  suspicion.  In  order, 
however,  to  baffle  his  foe,  should  Matho,  notwithstand- 
ing be  watching  him,  instead  of  returning  directly  to 
the  cavern,  he  went  first  to  my  father's  house.  I  will 
not  say  that  there  was  not  a  spice  of  another  feeling 
that  directed  his  footsteps  thither.  I  had  more  than 
once  suspected  that  Porcia  held  an  influence  over  his 
mind,  scarcely  less  powerful  than  that  exercised  by 
Lucilla  over  mine.  Nor  would  I  dare  assert  that  the 
blush  that  covered  her  face,  or  the  confusion  and  tre- 
mor of  the  ingenuous  girl,  at  his  appearance,  were 
wholly  on  account  of  her  brother.  Suffice  it  to  say, 
that  after  a  stay  sufficiently  long  to  have  exhausted  the 
patience  of  Matho,  if  he  were  indeed  watching  his 
coming  out,  he  returned  to  the  cavern. 

As  he  stopped  to  press  the  spring  on  the  door  of  the 
tomb,  he  thought  he  heard  a  sound  as  of  some  one 
moving  with  great  precaution  near  him.  He  paused 
and  listened ;  but  not  a  sound  was  again  heard,  that 
jealousy  itself  needed  tremble  at.  Before  entering,  he 
took  the  precaution  to  look  behind  the  tombs  near 
him,  but  nothing  was  visible ;  and  convinced  that  he 
had  been  deceived  by  his  own  acute  suspicions,  he  en- 
tered, and  informed  us  of  his  success. 

That  evening  and  the  following  day  were  spent  in 
pleasing  anticipations  and  hopes.  Who  would  not  be 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  143 

happy  at  the  prospect  of  the  near  possession  of  the 
object  of  his  deep  love,  after  the  fearful  perils  that  we 
were  even  then  encountering,  like  the  repose  of  our 
own  mountain  after  the  tremendous  agitation  within  it. 

But  the  eventful  hour  drew  nigh.  We  accordingly 
made  a  package  of  our  arms  and  other  things  that  we 
intended  to  take  with  us.  Lucilla  was  disguised,  as 
well  as  ourselves  ;  and  it  was  agreed  that  Julius  and  I 
should  go  first  with  the  package,  and  Lucilla  with  Ve- 
tullius  follow  a  few  minutes  after,  in  order  the  better  to* 
avoid  exciting  attention  from  any  chance  passengers. 
Every  thing  being  in  readiness,  Julius  and  I  departed 
with  our  baggage,  with  which  we  arrived  in  safety  at 
the  boat.  But  when,  after  some  minutes  had  elapsed 
and  Lucilla  and  Vetullius  did  not  appear,  I  began  to 
be  apprehensive,  Julius  laughed  at  my  impatience,  as 
he  termed  rny  fears  for  my  companions ;  but  this  did 
not  alleviate  them.  Accordingly,  arming  myself,  I 
once  more  returned  to  the  cavern. 

I  met  them  not  on  the  way  ;  and  on  my  arrival  at 
the  tomb  by  which  it  is  entered,  I  found  the  door  open. 
My  foreboding  fears  Were  now  quickened  into  agony. 
I  drew  my  sword  and  rushed  into  the  cavern.  I  shall 
not  readily  forget  the  spectacle  that  met  my  view. 
There  lay  Vetullius  bound  hand  and  foot,  and  over 
him  stood  a  tall,  gaunt  figure  with  a  drawn  sword,  to 
guard  more  surely  the  defenceless  old  man.  But  I 
paused  not  for  him,  for  I  heard  the  shrieks  of  Lucilla 
ringing  through  the  distant  arches  of  the  cavern.  I 
followed  the  sound  with  the  speed  of  the  wind.  The 
man  I  have  mentioned  attempted  to  pursue  me,  but  he 
soon  lost  himself  in  the  intricate  mazes  of  the  cavern. 


144  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

For  myself,  I  knew  not,  I  cared  not  for  his  pursuit.  I 
thought  not  of  him.  My  whole  soul  was  with  Lucilla. 
I  well  knew,  too,  the  intricacies  of  the  place,  and  I  soon 
overtook  the  villain.  Lucilla  was  in  his  arms  and 
struggling  violently.  In  one  hand  he  held  a  torch. 
At  the  sight  of  me  she  uttered  a  scream  of  joy.  Matho 
instantly  relaxed  his  hold,  and  planting  the  end  of  the 
torch  in  the  earth  he  drew  his  sword  ;  for  he  well 
knew  that  his  struggle  now  was  to  be  for  life  or  for 
death,  and  with  a.  desperate  man.  He  was  large  and 
powerful,  but  he  wanted  the  necessary  accomplishment 
for  a  villain,  courage.  Had  he  but  possessed  an  ordinary 
degree  of  coolness,  he  might  have  taken  the  advantage 
that  my  passionate  eagerness  gave  him.  But  he  was  a 
coward  as  well  as  villain.  Our  combat  lasted  but  a  few 
moments,  for  what  could  withstand  the  fury  of  a  rage 
like  mine  1  I  clove  him  through  the  skull,  and  ere  the 
worthless  villain  fell  at  my  feet,  I  saw  the  agonizing 
expression  of  the  starting  eye,  as  uttering  a  deep  groan, 
he  ceased  from  the  struggle,  and  resting  the  point  of 
his  sword  in  the  sand,  supported  himself  for  a  moment 
upon  it,  though  reeling  and  balancing  himself  with 
difficulty  ;  then  dropping  his  head  on  his  chest,  the 
muscles  of  his  arm  relaxed,  he  pitched  forward  and 
fell  heavily  upon  the  floor.  A  few  convulsive  struggles 
followed — the  eye  was  closed — then  suddenly  opened 
to  straining — the  pupil  dilated  as  by  a  violent  effort  for 
sight — and  the  soul  of  the  villain  departed. 

Supporting  the  almost  lifeless  Lucilla  in  my  arms,  I 
turned  to  depart,  when  another  armed  man  stood  be- 
fore me.  It  was  Julius.  A  single  glance  of  his  eye 
served  to  explain  what  had  passed^  He,  therefore, 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  145 

returned  and  unbound  Vetullius,  and  we  now  once 
more  left  the  cavern.  We  reached  our  bark  in  safety. 

But,  arrived  there,  Vetnllius  refused  to  accompany  us 
farther.  It  was  in  vain  that  we  urged,  and  prayed,  and 
implored.  "  There  is  work  yet  to  be  done  here,"  he 
said.  "  I  must  complete  it  before  I  can  join  you. 
Meantime  a  friend  of  mine  will  receive  you  at  the 
quay.  He  already  has  notice  of  your  approach.  Trust 
him  fully.  Do  not  make  yourself  uneasy  about  me ; 
He  who  saved  me  from  the  lion's  jaws,  and  who  hath 
this  night  delivered  us  from  greater  peril,  He  will  pro- 
tect me  still."  Finding  our  efforts  to  take  him  with  us 
to  be  vain,  we  bade  him  adieu,  and  parted,  not  without 
tears.  The  old  man  then  gave  us  his  blessing,  and  rais- 
ing  our  little  sail,  in  a  few  minutes  we  had  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  Pompeii  gradually  receding  from  our  view. 

Lucilla  was  deeply  affected.  When  she  last  saw  the 
light  of  heaven  and  the  blue  sky,  she  had  taken,  as  she 
then  thought,  an  eternal  farewell  of  them ;  and  there 
was  a  solemnity  in  the  appearance  of  all  things  about  us 
now,  which  was  doubtless  aided  by  the  scene  we  had  just 
passed  through,  the  hour,  and  last  though  not  least,  the 
angry  appearance  and  sounds  of  the  mountain.  From 
time  to  time  a  sound  more  hollow  than  thunder,  yet 
not  less  loud,  was  heard  echoing  and  re-echoing  through 
the  air  for  several  seconds,  accompanied  by  vivid  flashes 
of  light,  which  for  an  instant  made  every  object  as  dis- 
tinct as  at  noon-day.  Then  again  it  would  gradually 
fade  away  to  a  light  as  soft  as  that  of  the  aurora  borea- 
lis,  which,  too  faint  to  illumine  other  objects,  seemed  to 
settle  over  the  mouth  of  the  crater,  lingering  as  if  loth 
to  depart.  Even  this  at  times  would  die  wholly  away, 
13 


146  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

so  as  to  leave  the  mountain  as  black  and  dark  as  its 
own  desolate  summit,  till  a  new  peal  was  roared  out 
from  its  sullen  throat.  Light  barks  were  seen  shooting 
by  us  with  the  fleetness  oi'  an  arrow  and  the  silence  of 
a  spirit.  But  whatever  might  be  the  nature  of  our  sen- 
sations or  reflections,  they  had  no  opportunity  to  be  of 
long  continuance  ;  for  after  a  few  hours'  sail  we  shot 
into  the  full  port  of  Neapolis. 

We  now  enjoyed  a  very  different  view  of  the  bay 
from  that  presented  in  the  crowded  little  port  of  Pom- 
peii. Large  galleys  lay  riding  at  anchor  in  the  haven, 
through  whose  sterns  lighls  were  seen  flashing  as  we 
glided  along.  The  light  barks  of  those  engaged  in  fishing 
appeared  darting  to  and  .fro,  and  occasionally  the  voice 
of  the  fisherman  was  heard  echoing  over  the  waters ; 
while  his  little  boat,  to  whose  prow  a  torch  was  fixed, 
seemed  gliding  like  a  spirit  over  the  deep.  The  moon 
was  just  rising  as  our  bark  touched  the  pier,  the  boat- 
man informing  us  at  the  same  time  that  the  old  man 
who  refused  to  embark  with  us,  had  ordered  him  to 
land  us  at  that  particular  spot.  We  readily  understood 
the  cause  of  this  order ;  and  accordingly  we  were 
scarcely  well  on  the  land,  when  a  man  came  up  to  us, 
and  as  he  passed  us  he  inquired  in  a  careless  tone, 
"  How  is  the  wind  1 "  the  words  agreed  upon  as  a  sig- 
nal. "  Fresh  from  the  mountain,"  was  the  concerted 
reply,  and  we  were  instantly  acquainted.  He  knew 
the  whole  history  of  our  difficulties  and  situation  ;  and 
instantly  led  the  way,  through  the  dark  and  intricate 
windings  of  the  city,  once  the  ambitious  rival  of  Pala?- 
opolis,  till  the  two  were  united  by  Augustus,  to  the 
lodgings  he  had  provided  for  us.  Here,  he  assured  us, 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  147 

we  might  remain  in  safety,  till  we  should  find  it  con- 
venient to  change  our  place  of  abode. 

The  next  day  he  took  us  with  him  into  the  vast  cata- 
combs that  almost  undermine  that  city.38  The  subter- 
ranean galleries,  like  those  at  Rome,  were  used  as  a 
place  of  refuge  and  interment  for  the  Christian  martyrs. 
My  heart  sickened  as  step  after  step  he  raised  his  torch 
and  showed  the  ^  ,  the  certain  indication  of  a  martyr's 
tomb,  graven  on  the  wall.39  These  catacombs  he  assured 
us  extended  even  to  Misenum.  But  after  wandering  a 
short  time  in  these  chilling  regions,  to  which  however 
our  residence  in  the  cavern  at  Pompeii  had  somewhat 
inured  us,  we  ascended  a  few  steps,  and  found  ourselves 
in  a  regularly  formed  church,  which  with  incredible 
labor  had  been  wrought  here  by  the  first  Christians  and 
Christian  martyrs.  Columns,  hewn  out  of  the  solid  tufo, 
seem  to  support  the  roof;  while  the  altar  and  the  sacristy 
are  wrought  in  the  same  manner  from  the  same  material. 
In  the  latter  were  a  number  of  inscriptions  on  mar- 
ble. There  was  something  really  imposing  in  the  sud- 
den appearance  of  this  church,  lighted  up  in  the  bowels 
of  the  earth,  and  the  faithful,  kneeling  in  silence  before 
the  altar  of  Jehovah,  in  despite  of  persecution  and  in 
the  face  of  death.  Hither,  during  our  short  stay  in  this 
city,  we  daily  repaired  before  daybreak,  and  united  our 
hearts  and  our  voices  in  the  worship  of  the  Most  High. 
But  that  stay  we  were  desirous  of  shortening  as  much 
as  possible,  never  feeling  in  safety  while  so  near  the 
city  of  Pompeii  This  desire  was  not  diminished  by 
the  contents  of  a  letter  we  received  from  Vetullius, 
which  informed  us  that  our  escape  was  effected  only 
by  the  interposition  of  a  merciful  Providence,  and  con- 


148  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

trary  to  every  chance.  Matho  had  contrived,  by  means 
of  spies  who  followed  Julius,  to  ascertain  our  place  of 
retreat.  He  had  then  sent  for  a  body  of  soldiers  to  arrest 
us.  These  men  were  to  have  come  as  soon  as  possible 
to  join  him,  who  was  remaining  on  the  watch  that 
we  should  not  escape.  Owing  to  some  mistake  or 
informality  in  the  message,  the  officer  did  not  immedi- 
ately comply  with  the  request.  Matho,  meantime,  who 
with  one  of  his  friends  was  still  in  waiting,  at  last  be- 
came impatient,  and  despatched  another  messenger. 
This  summons  was  obeyed  ;  but  as  if  Heaven  were  de- 
termined to  frustrate  the  evil  designs  of  this  monster,  the 
soldiers  repaired  to  the  wrong  place.  Meanwhile  time 
glided  away,  and  Julius  and  myself  appeared.  He  saw 
us  leave  the  cavern  ;  but  cowardly,  as  is  commonly  the 
case  with  villains,  he  did  not  dare  to  attempt  to  detain 
us  himself,  but  contented  himself  with  cursing  the  sol- 
diers, the  messengers,  and  us.  But  when,  a  moment 
after,  he  saw  Vetullius  appear  with  Lucilla,  his  joy 
became  as  great  as  was  his  disappointment  before  ;  and 
entering,  while  his  friend  guarded  Vetullius,  he  seized 
Lucilla  in  his  arms  and  was  bearing  her  to  the  interior 
of  the  cavern,  when  I  returned.  The  friend  of  Matho, 
who  in  his  pursuit  of  me  lost  himself  in  the  numberless 
intricate  galleries  with  which  the  cavern  abounded, 
was  never  again  heard  of,  and  as  these  galleries  were 
said  to  be  of  immense  extent,  numberless,  and  forming 
a  perfect  labyrinth,  and  he  himself  destitute  of  any 
light,  there  seemed  little  doubt  that  he  perished  miser- 
ably. The  secret  of  the  cavern  was  therefore  a  secret 
still.  Vetullius  advised  our  speedily  purchasing  a  bark 
and  retiring  to  the  little  island  of  Palmaria,  in  the 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  149 

Tyrrhene  sea,  opposite  the  coast  of  Latium.  There  in 
a  beautiful  solitude  dwelt  a  friend  of  his,  and  there  he 
would  be  able  to  join  us  in  a  few  days.  I  had  hoped 
that,  before  leaving  Neapolis,  I  might  be  able  to  claim 
the  name  of  husband  ;  but  Lucilla  preferred  waiting 
the  return  of  Vetullius,  and  I  was  obliged  unwillingly 
enough  to  defer  that  happiness.  Meantime,  however, 
I  could  enjoy  her  presence,  I  was  with  her — could  see 
her — listen  to  her  ;  and  under  such  circumstances  what 
lover  could  be  otherwise  than  happy  1 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

OUR  plans  for  our  departure  were  soon  laid.  A  bark 
was  purchased  sufficiently  large  to  convey  us  and  our 
few  effects.  In  the  centre  was  a  little  cabin  for  the 
convenience  of  Lucilla  ;  while  Julius,  who  possessed 
what  seemed  to  me  a  very  considerable  skill  in  mari- 
time matters,  was  to  take  the  management  and  naviga- 
tion of  our  little  vessel.  A  small  supply  of  bread  and 
fruits  was  placed  on  board,  and  we  at  length  took  leave 
of  the  kind  and  hospitable  friend  who  had  so  faithfully 
assisted  us  at  Neapolis. 

It  was  daybreak  when  we  embarked,  committing 
ourselves  to  the  guidance  of  Heaven.  Disguised  as  we 
were,  there  seemed  little  danger  of  discovery  ;  or  but 
enough  to  give  zest  to  our  situation  ;  and  as  the  sun 
rose  upon  that  beautiful  bay,  the  fresh  air  of  the 
morning,  perfumed  with  orange  and  citron  blossoms, 


150  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

came  floating  to  us  over  the  waters.  Fishing  boats 
were  already  actively  moving  about  the  bay.  Shouts 
from  the  land,  peals  of  laughter,  and  the  animation  of 
the  labors  of  the  commencing  day,  were  gradually  be- 
ginning to  be  heard  and  seen.  As  yet  a  dreamy  quiet 
seemed  to  brood  over  the  city,  so  that  the  slightest 
noise  was  echoed  back,  and  the  animation  perceptible 
seemed  not,  as  at  uoon-day,  the  stirring  life  of  a  vast 
city,  but  of  a  few  individuals.  The  giant  was  just 
awaking,  but  not  rising  from  his  slumbers.  Sea- 
birds  were  seen  dipping  their  broad  gray  wings  into 
the  waters  as  they  sailed  past  us,  while  our  little 
bark  with  its  sails  trimmed,  skimmed  lightly  as  they 
on  its  course. 

Stretching  out  of  the  bay  in  order  to  round  the  pro- 
montory of  Misenum,  we  passed  the  beautiful  Portus 
Julius,  made  by  Agrippa,  by  joining  the  lakes  Lucrinus 
and  Avernus  to  the  bay  of  Baise.  On  our  left  we  saw 
the  island  of  Capreae,  famous  for  being  the  scene  of  the 
debaucheries  too  gross  for  a  name,  in  which  Tiberius 
past  there  the  last  seven  years  of  his  life.  Here  it  was 
that  he  offered  rewards  to  him  who  should  invent  new 
pleasures  or  procure  fresh  luxuries  ;  while  Sejanus,  the 
friend  and  favorite  worthy  of  the  master,  outraged  and 
insulted  alike  Rome,  humanity,  and  the  Emperor. 

To  me,  every  thing  was  still  new ;  and  the  sight  of 
all  these  objects,  of  which  I  had  long  read  and  heard, 
added  to  the  delight  I  felt  at  being  seated  by  the  side 
of  Lucilla,  seemed  to  me  too  like  the  fancied  happiness 
of  a  dream  or  a  tale,  to  be  reality.  On  our  left  lay  the 
island  of  Pithecusa,  where  the  giant  Python  is  buried  ; 
and  whose  inhabitants  were  changed  into  monkeys  by 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  151 

the  anger  of  Jupiter,  the  fable  that  I  once  most  fully 
believed.  On  our  right  lay  the  city  of  Cumse,  so  long 
celebrated  by  the  Mantuan  band,  as  the  residence  of 
the  Sibyl  called  the  Cumaean.  But  our  flying  course 
was  soon  checked.  The  wind,  which  at  first  had  been 
light  and  favorable,  soon  increased  to  a  fresh  and 
strong  head  wind.  We  were  obliged  to  beat  slowly 
and  toilsomely  against  it,  our  little  bark  laboring 
heavily  in  the  rough  sea.  We  coasted  along  the 
beautiful  shores  of  Campania,  however,  not  less  beau- 
tiful now  for  the  smiling  repose  that  contrasted  well 
enough  with  our  turbulent  course,  and  passed  the 
Vulturnus,  the  celebrated  river  that  gave  its  name  to 
the  wind  that  blew  from  that  quarter,  and  which  so 
incommoded  the  Romans  on  the  day  of  the  bloody 
.slaughter  of  Cannae,  when  their  eagles  drooped  before 
the  genius  of  the  great  Carthaginian.  From  time  to 
time,  galleys  laden  with  merchandise  came  sweeping 
proudly  before  the  wind,  returning  from  carrying  the 
products  of  Egypt  to  Ostia,  or  some  of  the  super- 
abundance of  Ostia  to  Pompeii,  that  mart  for  other 
cities.  Occasionally  the  sound  of  music  reached  us 
from  those  vessels,  and  the  smoke  of  incense  from 
little  altars  gorgeously  decorated,  and  raised  near  the 
prow,  was  not  unfrequently  blown  to  us,  as  the  vessels 
carne  sweeping  by.  Sometimes  the  light  Liburnse40 
would  come  clipping  by  ;  then  again  we  would  see 
approaching  the  gilded  and  painted  prow  of  some  tra- 
der, bearing  its  name  painted  in  large  letters  in  front, 
and  having  poles  raised  from  the  stern,  on  whose  top  gay 
coronals  of  flowers  and  ribbons  were  tossed  by  the  wind. 
Some,  who  had  just  quitted  the  harbour,  had  their  sterns 


152  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

hung  with  garlands  ;  and,  occasionally,  some  Phoenician 
vessel,  returning  home,  would  be  seen  with  the  figure 
of  its  tutelar  god  painted  on  the  prow.  These  were 
sometimes  protected  by  a  long  ship,*1  whose  brazen 
beak,  with  its  three  teeth  or  points,  would  be  seen  glit- 
tering in  the  sun  for  some  time  before  it  came  up 
with  us  ;  and  while  the  dark  mass  increased  as  it  ap- 
proached, heaving  its  black  bulk  from  the  waves,  the 
oars  of  the  rowers  could  be  discerned,  then  the  flashing 
of  the  spray  in  the  sun,  then  the  glitter  of  arms,  as  the 
proud  array  rushed  by,  cleaving  the  waters,  and  leav- 
ing a  well-defined  wake  for  a  long  distance  behind  it, 
graven  as  it  were  upon  the  waves.  We  looked  with 
peculiar  interest  upon  the  little  island  of  Pontia,  once 
the  residence  of  him  who  condemned  to  death  the 
great  Author  of  our  religion  ;  and  at  length,  at  the  close 
of  the  day,  we  had  only  reached  the  beautiful  port  of 
Caieta,  named  from  the  nurse  of  JSneas,  who  was 
buried  there.  Here,  dropping  in,  we  cast  anchor,  in 
order  to  pass  the  night  there. 

Our  frugal  meal  was  soon  made  ;  and  as  darkness 
closed  around  us,  and  we  sat  musing  in  that  deep 
silence,  the  most  eloquent  language  of  happy  hearts, 
it  seemed  as  if  the  day-spring  of  our  happiness  had  at 
length  dawned.  The  flashes  of  the  mountain,  which 
were  distinctly  seen  from  this  place,  followed  by  its 
deep  and  sullen  roar,  served  but  to  heighten  the  joy  of 
the  hour,  by  holding  before  us,  in  our  present  security, 
the  uncertainty  and  peril  of  the  past.  And  when  the 
moon  arose,  throwing  its  soft  light  over  every  object, 
it  seemed  to  me  that  the  beauty  of  Lucilla  should 
always  be  gazed  on  by  moonlight,  so  well  did  it  seem 


TALE  OF  POMPEII  153 

adapted  to  her  cairn  and  serious  countenance.  While 
I  held  in  mine  the  soft  hand  that  I  so  soon  hoped  to 
claim  as  my  own,  the  past  seemed  to  me  but  as  a  fright- 
ful dream,  while  the  only  reality  of  life  was  the  present. 
Early  the  following  morning,  we  again  set  sail  ;  but 
not  as  before  with  a  head  wind.  A  gentle  breeze 
wafted  us  propitiously  on  our  course.  Coasting  along 
the  shores  of  Latiurn,  we  passed  Anxur,  the  renowned 
city,  sacred  to  Jupiter,  and  the  Circeian  promontory,  and 
at  last  saw  the  towers  and  domes  of  Anlium  rising  from 
the  shore.  This  ancient  capital  of  the  Volsci,  was  now 
shorn  of  its  greatness,  and  fast  hastening  to  the  bourne 
that  awaits  alike  cities  and  individuals  Hence  it  was, 
that  Camillas  transported  the  beaks  of  the  ships,  which 
were  placed  in  the  Roman  forum,  and  which  gave  the 
name  of  "  rostrum"  to  the  tribunal  where  they  were 
placed.  Nearly  opposite  to  this  city,  lies  the  little 
island  of  Palmaria  which  we  sought,  and  for  which  we 
now  stretched  our  course  ;  nor  was  it  long  before  our 
little  vessel  ran  safely  into  a  small  cove  or  inlet,  which 
formed  a  natural  harbor  at  this  port.  Following  the 
directions  of  Vetullius,  which  he  had  very  minutely 
laid  down,  we  landed,  and  after  a  few  minutes'  walk 
we  arrived  at  a  beautiful  little  dell  situated  at  the  foot 
of  a  high  hill.  Buried  beneath  the  shadows  of  orange, 
olive,  and  citron  groves,  whose  foliage  was  blended  with 
•that  of  the  stately  ilex,  was  a  hut,  built  against  a  perpen- 
dicular rock,  that  rose  from  the  side  of  the  hill.  Here 
dwelt  Flavius  Piso,  a  Christian,  and  the  friend  of  Ve- 
tullius. He  received  us  with  the  kindness  of  a  father, 
and  showed  us  a  lette^  that  he  himself  had  received 
from  Vetullius,  explaining  to  him  the  nature  of  our 


154  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

difficulties,  and  requesting  him  to  shelter  and  conceal 
us  for  the  present.  This  he  readily  undertook,  and 
had  already  made  preparation  to  receive  us. 

But  Julius  remained  not  long.  Freed  by  the  death 
of  Matho  from  the  imminent  danger  that  hung  over 
him,  as  there  was  no  one  to  accuse  him  of  being  a 
Christian,  he  resolved  to  return.  He  was  silent  with 
regard  to  the  attraction  that  drew  him  so  strongly  to 
Pompeii,  but  I  needed  not  his  confession  to  teach  me 
what  observation  had  informed  me  of  before.  It  was 
not  with  dry  eyes  that  we  saw  him  embark  one  morn- 
ing, with  a  fine  wind,  which  landed  him  shortly  in 
Pompeii.  From  our  observatory,  as  we  called  a  pleas- 
ant seat  on  the  brow  of  the  hill  that  overhung  our  hut, 
and  which  commanded  a  full  view  of  the  sea,  we  watch- 
ed the  white  sail  that  bore  him  away,  and  as  long  as  it 
was  possible  to  see  and  to  be  seen,  we  made  signals  of 
farewell  to  him,  which  he  returned  ;  and  when  his  sail 
could  be  seen  no  longer,  we  turned  to  each  other  with 
that  feeling  of  strengthened  trust  and  affection,  that  at 
such  hours  of  parting  always  seems  to  bind  us  more 
closely  to  the  true  hearts  that  are  left  behind. 

Bui  tears  pass  away  like  the  morning  dew,  when  the 
sun  of  a  happy  heart  rises  upon  the  mind.  Here  it 
was  that  I  knew  how  deep  are  the  springs  of  joy,  that, 
like  fountains  long  hidden  from  the  light  of  day,  well 
up  fresh  and  pure  from  the  secret  places  of  the  heart. 
My  dreamy  and  romantic  turn  of  mind,  that  had  fed 
in  secret  upon  its  own  imaginations  of  unreal  life  and 
beauty,  had  suddenly  a  reality  to  which  to  cling  ;  and 
its  long-treasured  hoard  of  affections,  which  had  been 
guarded  with  all  a  miser's  care,  were  now  pourc-d  forth 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  155 

with  all  a  spendthrift's  extravagance,  before  the  young 
idol  to  which  it  bowed. 

Meantime  I  urged  her  to  shorten  the.  period  of  de- 
ferred hope,  and  to  become  mine  without  waiting  the 
arrival  of  Vetullius  ;  and  my  pleadings  I  began  to 
think  would  not  be  wholly  void  of  success.  Day  after 
day  did  we  wander  to  our  observatory,  where  hour 
after  hour  we  listened  to  the  instructive  conversation 
of  Piso,  or  to  the  works  of  some  agreeable  writer. 
Sometimes  it  was  the  tragedies  of  Sophocles  and  Eu- 
ripides that  engaged  our  interest — sometimes  we  wept 
over  the  fate  of  the  hapless  Dido, , as  drawn  with  the 
glowing  imagination  of  the  Mantuan  bard — sometimes 
to  the  keen  satirical  humor  and  the  elegant  sweetness 
of  the  famed  Venusian.  But  it  was  not  always  imagi- 
nary suffering  that  called  forth  our  interest  and  our 
tears.  The  venerable  Piso  would  sometimes  read  from 
that  holy  book,  whence  only  the  waters  of  life  may  be 
drunk,  of  the  suffering,  the  meekness,  the  agony,  and 
the  death  of  the  Saviour  of  men.  He  would  enlarge 
upon  his  character,  his  attributes,  and  the  object  of 
his  mission.  He  would  point  out  in  glowing  language 
the  practical  piety  that  he  taught  by  his  doctrines  and 
example,  and  its  superior  excellence  over  jarring  creeds 
and  wrangling  sectarism — the  forbearance  he  manifest- 
ed towards  human  infirmities  and  frailties, — the  mild- 
ness of  his  judgment  and  the  spotless  innocence  of  his 
life. 

The  very  brute  creation  seemed  to  sympathize  in  my 
affection  for  Lucilla.  Various  kinds  of  birds,  accus- 
tomed to  be  fed  by  her  hand,  daily  assembled  before 
the  door  of  a  grotto  she  had  elegantly  covered  with 


156  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

sea-shells,  and  there,  with  various  and  clamorous  notes 
and  after  not  a  little  bickering  and  pecking  among 
themselves,  would  run  to  claim  the  food  she  was  wont 
to  bestow.  And  as  we  passed  from  the  door  of  the 
hut  to  the  grotto,  these  little  pensioners  would  appear 
from  every  quarter,  flying  about  the  trees  under  which 
we  were  passing,  impatient  for  the  expected  distribu- 
tion. A  dog,  until  our  arrival  the  sole  companion  of 
Piso,  seemed  equally  to  attach  himself  to  her.  "  How 
good  must  you  be,  my  dear  Lucilla,"  said  I  to  her, 
"  when  even  the  very  brutes  follow  you  with  that  most 
eloquent  testimony  of  their  affection — confidence." 

In  the  sacred  hour  of  twilight,  arm  in  arm  did  we 
wander  along  the  beach,  attended  by  Piso  and  his  dog 
Pontus,  whose  task  it  was  to  carry,  in  a  little  basket, 
sometimes  the  food  for  the  birds,  and  sometimes  the 
scroll  that  we  were  reading ;  and  sometimes,  idle  as 
we,  he  seemed  to  loiter  about  us  as  if  enjoying  like 
ourselves  the  glorious  creations  of  God.  And  when 
the  moon  walked  in  her  sad  but  beautiful  brightness 
through  the  sky,  then  would  we  all  repair  to  the  obser- 
vatory, and  gaze  for  hours  in  silence  upon  that  river 
of  light  which  seemed  to  float  on  the  bosom  of  the 
waves,  trembling  like  the  young  heart  even  amid  its 
ten^erest  and  holiest  hcurs.  Beneath  us  Jay  the  deep 
shadows  of  the  groves  that  studded  our  little  island  ; 
and  above  our  heads  towered  the  stately  boughs  of  the 
dark  ilex.  In  a  scene  like  this,  with  Piso  by  our  side, 
and  Pontus  stretched  quietly  at  his  feet,  the  soft  and 
liquid  voice  of  Lucilla  would  be  sometimes  heard, 
blending  with  the  rich  ior.es  of  her  lyre,  while  the  sad 
notes  of  the  evening  birds  occasionally  were  heard  amid 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  157 

the  pauses,  lending  its  plaintive  notes  to  aid  the  charm 
of  the  scene.  Sometimes  a  distant  sail  would  appear, 
lazily  making  its  way  over  the  tranquil  waters,  and 
occasionally  sending  out  a  pale  and  sickly  light  from 
the  little  altar  at  its  prow. 

Yet  spite  of  the  fullness  of  my  happiness,  there  was 
at  times  an  ominous  misgiving  that  came  over  me,  to 
trouble  the  deep  quiet  of  my  joy.  Piso  had  often 
reproached  me  for  the  excess  of  my  love — love  that 
bound  too  strongly  to  earth,  what  should  belong  only 
to  heaven.  The  venerable  old  man  took  occasion  to 
rebuke  it  this  evening,  when  some  passionate  expres- 
sion escaped  me,  in  the  following  ominous  manner. 

"  When  the  great  Creator  of  all  things  first  framed 
this  beautiful  world,  he  poured  out  on  its  lap,  in  all  their 
luxuriance,  rich  fruits,  and  laughing  streams,  and  gay 
flowers.  The  lofty  tree,  the  lowly  violet,  and  the  light 
harebell  sprang  together  from  the  green  turf.  There 
was  heard  the  hum  of  the  bee,  the  voice  of  the  bird, 
the  stream's  prattle,  and  the  ocean's  roar.  One  voice 
alone  was  wanting  to  give  to  it  its  life  of  life — the  voice 
of  intelligence. 

"  For  this  the  Omnipotent  Creator  formed  the  boy, 
Love — not  such  as  he  is  now  represented,  a  mischiev- 
ous arid  cunning  urchin,  but  a  lovely,  laughing,  weep* 
ing  child,  all  joy  and  life  and  tenderness  and  feeling. 
If  but  an  insect  fell  into  a  stream,  there  was  Love, 
eager  to  extricate  him  from  his  difficulty  ;  and  when 
he  saw  him  fly  rejoicing  away,  he  would  clap  his  hands 
and  laugh  in  the  fullness  of  his  delight.  But  if  unable 
to  relieve  or  to  recover  him,  the  gentle  child  would  sit 
down  on  the  bank,  and  weep  over  his  fate.  Such  was 
14 


1 58  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

the  being  that  God  placed  in  this  beautiful  paradise. 
'  One  thing  only,'  He  said  to  him,  '  I  claim.  Remem- 
ber me.  Every  night  when  yon  sun  shall  set,  to  me  let 
your  orisons  arise.  Do  this  and  be  happy — nsglect  it, 
and  paradise  is  lost.' 

"  Gayly  the  delighted  boy  promised  to  observe  the 
command ;  and  he  roamed,  all  happiness,  about  the 
beautiful  world,  enjoying  the  ever  new  and  exhaustless 
pleasures  of  every  place  and  of  every  hour.  Now 
stretched  in  dreamy  listlessness  along  the  banks  of 
some  stream,  whose  waters  lulled  him  with  their  ever- 
lasting flow — now  chasing  the  golden-winged  butterfly 
through  the  perfumed  fields — now  bathing  in  the  clear 
waters — now  cleaving  the  air  with  his  sparkling  wings 
and  anon  nestling  among  the  roses,  as  he  sunk  tired  to 
his  dreamless  repose,  while  his  own  fair  existence 
seemed  linked  with  that  of  the  beautiful  flowers.  But 
still  at  sunset  he  threw  himself  upon  the  fragrant  sod, 
and  mingled  the  voice  of  his  gratitude  with  nature's. 

"  But  it  happened  one  day  that  he  saw  a  butterfly, 
whose  gorgeous  wings,  as  they  floated  by,  glittered  and 
sparkled  in  the  sunbeam.  So  Love  ran  off  with  eager 
haste  to  catch  the  g&udy  insect.  But  this  was  not  so 
easy  a  task  ;  and  ever  as  the  gilded,  coquettish  thing 
seemed  nearest,  it  would  again  start  off,  and  leave  poor 
Love  panting  and  tired  behind.  In  the  midst  of  the 
eager  chase,  the  sun  went  down.  But  the  boy  was  too 
eager  in  his  pursuit  to  notice  it ;  and  the  rustling  leaf, 
the  humming  insect,  and  the  whispering  pine,  raised 
on  high  their  solemn  voices,  unmingled  with  that  of 
intelligence.  At  length,  while  the  shadows  of  even 
ing  were  closing  about  him,  the  tired  insect  dropped. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  159 

Joyfully  did  Love  seize  the  coveted  object ;  but  lo  ! 
when  he  examined  it,  he  found  in  his  hand  only  a 
crushed  and  formless  thing,  whose  golden  plumage  was 
effaced  by  his  grasp.  So  Love  sat  down  and  cried  him- 
self to  sleep  ;  and  in  the  morning  he  recollected  his 
forgetfulness,  and  he  knelt  on  the  flowery  turf  and  im- 
plored forgiveness. 

"  Faithfully  for  awhile  did  he  return  to  his  duty ; 
but  temptation  came  again  and  again,  and  again  arid 
again  did  Love  weep,  and  promise,  and  forget.  And 
when  he  found  how  easily  he  was  swayed  by  the  breath 
of  temptation,  he  flung  himself  upon  the  fragrant  turf, 
and  wept  in  very  bitterness,  till  he  again  sobbed  him- 
self to  sleep.  He  was  awaked  by  an  icy  dullness  that 
seemed  to  benumb  his  limbs;  and  raising  his  head,  he 
tfound  he  was  no  longer  alone.  A  stern,  grim,  ghastly 
figure  sat  motionless  beside  him  ;  and  his  shadow  it 
was  that  so  chilled  the  animated  boy  ;  and  whenever 
that  shadow  fell  upon  him,  he  shivered  with  the  icy 
cold,  and  moved  away  to  the  sunbeam  to  warm  himself 
again.  But  wherever  he  went,  that  hideous  monster 
stood  immovable  at  his  side,  and  its  icy  shadow  fell 
on  him. 

"  '  Who  -are  you  ? '  he  at  length  exclaimed  to  his 
tormentor  ;  and'  a  harsh  voice,  like  the  voice  of  the 
stormy  sea,  when  heard  in  the  mysterious  softness  of 
dreams,  sent  back  an  answer,  as  it  were  an  echo — 
« Death.' 

"  '  Will  you  not  leave  me  then?  'said  the  passionate 
boy. 

"  And  again  that  deep  voice  answered — '  Never. 
Here  and  hereafter — now  and  for  ever — while  the  earth 


160  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

shall  endure — my  place  is  here,  and  Love  and  Death 
must  sit  side  by  side.' 

"  The  astonished  child  endeavoured  unconsciously  to 
repeat  his  words.  But  his  voice  failed  and  died  away, 
as  he  faintly  uttered,  '  Here — ' 

"  And  again  that  appalling  voice,  frightful  from  its 
very  lowness  and  quietness,  and  its  dreamlike  tone,  was 
heard — '  Every  where — at  the  board  and  the  bed,  at 
the  altar  and  the  fireside,  at  the  social  hearth,  and  in 
the  hall  of  strangers,  at  home  and  abroad,  asleep  and 
awake,  in  the  tempest  and  the  battle  and  the  deep,  this 
is  your  doom,  Love  must  rest  in  the  shadow  of  Death.' 

"  '  And  wherefore  is  this  1 '  sobbed  the  weeping 
child. 

"  '  To  teach  you  to  remember  Him.'' 

"  The  affrighted  boy  fled  in  dismay — but  in  vain. 
Wherever  he  went  scarcely  could  he  feel  one  warm 
ray  of  the  glowing  sun,  ere  he  shrunk  shivering  again 
in  the  icy  shadow  of  his  silent,  motionless  foe.  In  vain 
he  flew  from  flower  to  flower,  and  from  blossom  and 
fruits,  to  fresh  fruits  and  blossoms.  Scarcely  was  he 
seated  beside  them,  ere  the  freezing  shadow  fell  on 
them,  and  they  changed  and  died. 

"  In  passionate  anguish,  the  desolate  boy  flung  him- 
self to  the  earth  and  prayed  earnestly  and  long  to 
Him,  whom  even  from  the  abundance  of  his  blessings 
he  had  forgotten.  Then  in  his  very  agony  he  appealed 
to  the  silent  and  inflexible  monster.  '  And  thou  too,' 
he  exclaimed,  '  who  art  sent  in  vengeance  and  in  judg- 
ment, say,  is  there  no  way  to  propitiate  Him  who  hath 
sent  thee  hither  to  compel  me  to  remember  Him  1 ' 
And  a  voice  solemn  and  distant,  soft  as  the  breath  of 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  161 

the  summer's  sigh,  but  deep  as  the  roar  of  the  volcano, 
seemed,  as  it  were  an  echo,  to  repeat — '  Remember 
Him.' 

"  But  as  Love  fixed  his  wondering  eye  on  Death 
while  he '  addressed  him,  he  saw  that  his  face  was 
changed.  Instead  of  the  ghastly,  cold,  rigid  immo- 
bility of  the  grisly  monster,  his  countenance  seemed 
clothed  as  with  a  veil  of  solemn,  melancholy,  shadowy 
repose — a  mysterious  serenity — a  tranquillity  too  pro- 
found and  too  sacred  to  be  intruded  on.  His  shadow 
too,  Love  thought  seemed  less  chilling  than  before,  and 
his  heart  leaped  within  him. 

"  «  He  is  changing !  he  is  changing  !  '  shouted  the 
rejoicing  boy — '  His  terrors  are  psssing  away.  Tell  me,' 
he  added,  '  what  has  caused  this.  Name  the  talisman 
that  could  thus  shake  thy  throne  Say,  is  it  prayer  or 
penitence,  obedience  or  faith  ? '  And  again  that  deep, 
dreamlike  echo  seemed  to  repeat,  '  Prayer,  penitence, 
obedience,  faith.' 

"  '  There  is  then,  there  is  then,'  exclaimed  the  tri- 
umphant boy,  '  a  power  that  can  conquer  thee,  monster. 
— There  is  then  a  spot  where  Death  hath  no  place  by 
Love — There  is  a  place  where  thy  shadow  shall  never 
more  wither  my  joy.  Oh  !  I  know  there  is — there  is  ! ' 

"  And  the  deep  echo-like  voice  sent  back  the  reply — 
'  There  is — there  is.' 

"  Hence,"  said  the  old  man,  "  the  cause  that  Love 
here  never  enters  a  heart,  but  Death  comes  creeping 
after  ;  and  that  over  the  whole  earth,  they  still  hold 
their  united  empire." 

Lucilla  and  I  both  listened  with  an  ominous  sensa- 
tion that  we  almost  felt  to  be  prophetic.  Yet  it  was  but 
14* 


102  TALE  OF   POMPEII. 

the  uneasiness  with  which  all  doubt  the  reality  of  the 
fullness  of  their  joy.  And  as  under  the  influence  of  these 
vague  feelings  1  pressed  the  hand  of  the  gentle  girl,  , 
I  almost  expected  to  feel  the  icy  shadow  of  the  so 
long  dreaded  monster,  or  to  see  his  stern  form  in  the 
cold  moonbeam. 

It  was  upon  a  scene  and  in  an  hour  like  this,  that 
we  saw  a  little  bark  steering  directly  for  our  island. 
So  rare  a  thing  was  it  for  any  vessel  to  stop  here,  that 
we  all  supposed  it  must  be  Vetullius,  and  all  was  at 
once  anxiety  and  joy. 

"  Now,"  said  I,  delighted,  "  to-morrow  you  will  be 
mine."  The  blushing  girl  made  no  reply,  and  we  ran 
off  together  to  welcome  our.  excellent  and  venerable 
friend. 

[The  notes  taken  by  Lucius  seem  to  have  ended 
here,  and  the  conclusion  is  in  the  handwriting  of  an- 
other, probably  of  Piso.] 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  boat  drew  nearer  and  nearer,  and  at  last  dis- 
closed to  the  view  of  the  expecting  individuals,  riot  the 
venerable  man  they  had  expected,  but  a  messenger 
from  him.  Holding  aloft  the  letter  he  bore,  he  threw 
it  upon  the  beach,  some  minutes  before  he  himself 
landed.  The  letter  was  eagerly  seized,  but  its  con- 
tents, like  all  human  things,  were  of  mingled  joy  and 
sorrow.  The  Vestal,  Canuleia,  had  fled  from  Pompeii, 
and  this  threw  a  new  consternation  over  that  devoted 
city.  Julius  too  had  left  the  city  with  the  father  and 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  163 

famijy  of  Lucius,  leaving  there  only  servants  to  take 
charge  of  the  house,  he  was  never  again  to  see.  They 
had  returned  to  the  country,  where  Porcia  became  the 
wife  of  Julius.  So  far  all  was  well.  But  the  next  in- 
formation was  of  a  less  pleasing  character.  The  flight 
of  the  Vestal  had  been  discovered,  and  a  rigorous  but 
fruitless  search  followed.  In  consequence  of  this, 
Favella  herself  had  been  arrested,  and  was  threatened 
with  death  in  the  amphitheatre,  if  Lucilla  were  not 
found  before  the  day  of  the  9th  before  the  kalends  of 
September,  the  day  appointed  for  the  next  public 
games.  The  letter  concluded  by  informing  them  that 
he  was  himself  again  arrested,  and  condemned  to  die 
at  the  same  time. 

Words  cannot  express  the  consternation  that  follow- 
ed. Lucilla  wrung  her  hands  in  agony;  but  it  was  not 
long  that  her  calm  and  resolute  spirit  quailed  before 
the  sudden  and  violent  blow.  "  I  will  return  with 
you,"  she  said  to  the  messenger,  "  I  will  return  and 
surrender  myself  to  the  barbarous  laws."  Lucius  in 
an  agony  entreated  her  not  to  go.  "  You  will  not 
avert  her  fate,  you  will  but  insure  your  own."  Then 
again,  with  the  inconsistency  that  often  marks  the 
heart  in  its  passionate  moments,  he  told  her  that  it  was 
only  a  snare  of  the  priests  to  recover  her ;  that  they 
would  not  dare  to  put  their  threat  in  execution  upon 
an  innocent  woman.  To  all  this  Lucilla  only  replied, 
"  It  is  my  duty." 

"  It  is  mine  too,  then,"  said  Lucius,  "  and  I  will 
accompany  you."  It  was  in  vain  that  she  now  en- 
treated him  to  remain — in  vain  she  pleaded  and  wept. 
"  I  will  not  outlive  you,"  was  his  only  answer.  Hour 


]()4  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

after  hour  glided  away,  and  found  these  lovers  still 
vainly  endeavouring  each  to  prevent  the  other  from  de- 
parting. But  at  length,  and  let  not  those  condemn  her 
who  have  never  known  the  trial,  the  resolution  of  Lu- 
cilla  began  to  give  way  before  the  prayers  and  the 
tears  of  her  lover. 

"  I  could  have  resisted  it  from  others,"  said  the 
heart-striken  girl — "  but  you  too — Alas  !  I  did  not 
think  that  yours  would  be  the  shadow  that  would  fall 
thus  darkening  between  Heaven  and  me." 

"  Nor  does  it.  It  is  riot  duty,  dearest  girl,  that 
calls  you.  It  is  madness — guilt,  to  throw  away  that 
life  as  a  worthless  thing,  that  Heaven  has  given  you  for 
a  worthy  end.  You  cannot  assist  your  mother — you 
can  but  add  to  hers  the  sacrifice  of  your  life  and  of 
mine,  if  the  doom  of  those  demons  have  decreed  death." 

The  girl  sunk  sobbing  upon  her  lover's  bosom,  as  he 
called  to  his  aid  all  the  heart-stirring  eloquence  of  pas- 
sionate love  and  grief  to  induce  her  to  remain — the 
memory  of  the  past,  the  hopes  of  the  future,  their 
perils,  their  escape,  their  love,  and  their  agony. 

"My  mother!  my  dear  mother!"  was  the  only 
answer  of  the  heart-broken  girl ;  yet  wearied  and  ex- 
hausted, blame  her  not,  that  she  at,  last  permitted  her- 
self to  give  the  desired  promise.  Blame  her  not,  till 
you  have  yourself  struggled  with  and  conquered  temp- 
tation like  hers — then  let  him  who  is  without  sin  cast 
the  first  stone. 

Meantime  the  messenger,  who  was  to  return  early 
the  next  morning,  had  long  since  retired  to  rest ;  yet 
it  was  not  till  nearly  morning  that  Lucius  compelled 
himself  to  leave  Lucilla,  and  throw  himself  upon  his 
couch. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  165 

After  the  severe  agitations  of  the  past  night,  it  was 
not  easy  to  sleep  ;  yet  after  some  time  he  gradually  fell 
into  a  heavy  slumber.  He  awoke  not  early,  and  when 
he  did,  he  could  not  readily  arrange  his  thoughts  so  as 
to  recollect  the  incidents  of  the  past  night.  But  when 
at  last  they  did  flash  upon  his  mind,  he  leaped  from  his 
couch,  and  hastily  putting  on  his  tunic,  and  throwing 
his  toga  upon  his  shoulders,  he  hastened  into  the  room 
in  which  they  commonly  breakfasted.  Piso  was  there 
alone.  "  Where  is  Lucilla  1  "  asked  Lucius,  his  heart 
already  throbbing  as  if  prophetic  of  coming  evil. 

"She  has  been  gone  this  hour,"  returned  the  old 
man.  "  She  embarked  with  the  messenger  of  Vetul- 
lius.  with  a  fine  breeze,  at  day-break." 

Lucius  turned  away  in  silence,  and  rushed  from  th£ 
room  to  the  sea-shore,  where  the  little  boat  used  by 
Piso,  when  he  wished  to  go  to  the  opposite  city  of  An- 
tium,  was  kept  moored.  But  it  was  not  to  be  found, 
for  having  been  improperly  secured  the  preceding 
night,  the  tide  as  it  rose  had  floated  it  away.  In  des- 
pair he  rushed  up  to  the  observatory.  The  white  sail 
of  the  little  bark  was  still  to  be  seen  jn  the  distance — 
so  distant,  as  to  be  with  difficulty  distinguished,  as  it 
floated  amid  the  white-topped  billows,  from  them,  or 
from  the  white  of  the  sea-bird's  wing.  There  he  stood 
fixed  and  gazing  upon  the  vanishing  little  vessel,  till 
not  a  speck  was  discernible  on  the  far  horizon's  verge  ; 
then  dashing  himself  upon  the  ground  he  tore  his  hair, 
beat  his  head  upon  the  earth,  and  gave  uncontrolled 
vent  to  the  agony  that  excited  him. 

Piso,  meantime,  anxious  for  his  safety,  came  to  seek 
him,  and  to  administer  as  far  as  might  be,  the  words 


166  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

of  consolation.  But  Lucius  heard  them  not.  Break- 
ing furiously  from  the  old  man,  he  ran  to  the  grotto 
where  his  last  conversation  with  Lucilla  had  taken 
place.  As  he  approached,  he  thought  he  heard  the 
sound  of  her  lyre.  He  sprang  forward — It  was  indeed 
that  instrument,  over  whose  strings  the  fresh  sea-breeze 
now  sweeping,  called  forth  a  melancholy,  dirge-like 
sound.  Upon  the  ground  lay  a  little  fragment  of  blue 
ribbon  that  he  well  remembered  as  a  part  of  the  stro- 
phium4Q  that  she  commonly  wore.  Taking  it  up,  he 
kissed  it  passionately  a  thousand  times,  then  placed  it 
carefully  in  his  bosom.  Meantime,  the  birds  accus- 
tomed to  be  fed  at  that  place,  began  with  loud  cries  to 
express  their  disappointment  at  the  omission.  Pontus 
too,  unable  to  account  for  the  disappearance  of  his 
friend,  came  smelling  to  the  place  where  she  was  ac- 
customed to  sit,  then  seating  himself  upon  the  ground, 
he  fixed  his  intelligent  eye  wistfully  upon  the  face  of 
Lucius,  with  a  low,  uneasy  moan. 

"  She  is  gone,"  he  replied,  as  if  in  answer  to  an 
interrogatory  from  the  animal ;  "  we  shall  never  see 
her  more."  Then  again  bursting  from  the  place,  he 
repaired  to  the  observatory,  where  he  erected  a  mast 
with  a  flag  for  a  signal  to  any  vessel  that  might  chance 
to  pass.  His  whole  time  now  was  occupied  in  wan- 
dering about  the  places  in  which  he  had  been  with 
Lucilla.  Every  rock  on  which  she  had«chanced  to  sit, 
every  tree  or  flower  that  had  ever  formed  the  subject. 
of  a  casual  remark,  was  become  sacred.  As  if  to  try 
his  patience  to  the  utmost,  day  after  day  gassed,  with- 
out a  single  vessel  coming  nigh  enough  to  observe  his 
signal.  He  then  busied  himself  with  forming  a  raft 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  167 

from  the  trunks  of  trees,  with  which  he  had  formed 
the  plan  of  reaching  Antium,  and  thence  embarking 
for  Pompeii.  In  vain  did  Piso  attempt  consolation. 
"  She  is  dead — she  is  murdered,"  was  the  only  reply 
which  he  gave  him  ;  "  murdered,  while  I  am  impris- 
oned here,  unable  to  attain  even  the  bliss  of  dying 
with  her.  Cruel  girl !  "  Then  as  the  little  pensioners 
on  Lucilla's  bounty  flew  chirping  around  him,  he 
would  throw  to  them  vast  quantities  of  food.  "  She 
loved  you,"  he  would  say  ;  "  why  should  my  grief  make 
me.  do  what  she  would  not  approve." 

Pontus  was  the  only  friend  with  whom  he  would  con- 
verse freely  of  Lucilla.  He  fancied  that  the  faithful  an- 
imal knew  and  sympathized  in  his  sorrow,  and  he  could 
utter  before  him  unrestrained  those  passionate  bursts 
of  love  and  grief  which  he  would  have  been  too  proud 
to  uttsr  before  mortal  man.  There  may  be  a  higher 
love  and  a  more  rational  intercourse  between  man  and 
man  ;  but,  and  alas !  that  it  should  be  so,  we  find  no- 
where, except  in  parental  love,  more  instances  of  true 
affection — faithful,  devoted,  unshrinking  affection,  than 
in  the  history  of  that  noble  animal.  For  hours  would 
Lucius  sit  in  silence  at  the  grotto,  listening  to  the  low, 
dirge-like  tones  of  the  lyre,  as  the  wind  swept  over  its 
strings  ;  then  he  would  turn  suddenly  and  passionately 
away  to  his  yet  unformed  raft,  to  fell  the  trees  neces- 
sary for  its  construction.  But  unused  to  labor,  he 
made  but  slow  progress. 

Meanwhile  the  fatal  day,  fixed  for  the  celebration  of 
the  games,  drew  nigh ;  and  he  was  determined  at 
every  hazard  to  leave  the  island  before  that  time,  having 
a  presentiment  that  that  day  was  to  decide  his  destiny. 


1(58  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

It  was  now  the  third  day  before  their  celebration,  and 
the  pieces  of  the  raft  were  brought  together,  and  the 
next  day  was  to  witness  the  completion  of  his  labor  in 
uniting  these  pieces  firmly  together.  Accordingly,  it 
was  at  an  early  hour  that  he  repaired  to  his  labor, 
when  the  first  object  that  met  his  view  was  a  boat 
sufficiently  near  to  allow  him  to  distinguish  the  men 
on  board.  He  instantly  mounted  to  the  observatory, 
and  thence  he  easily  succeeded  in  exciting  their  atten- 
tion, and  soon  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  their  prow 
turned  to  the  shore  and  the  rowers  pulling  straight 
for  it.  Embarking  in  it  with  Piso,  he  was  soon  landed 
in  safety  at  Antium.  Here  he  lost  not  a  moment  in  hir- 
ing a  bark  to  convey  him  to  Pompeii,  and  that  very  day 
he  set  sail,  after  taking  an  affectionate  leave  of  his  aged 
friend,  Piso.  As  he  was  whirled  along  over  the  surface 
of  the  waters,  a  thousand  thoughts  thronged  and  crowd- 
ed upon  his  mind.  It  was  but  a  few  short  months  since 
he  had  left  the  repose  of  the  country,  a  dreaming  aud 
romantic  boy.  The  future  then  lay  hidden  before  him, 
or  when  considered  at  all,  its  images  floated  through 
his  mind  like  the  fleeting  clouds  over  the  blue  sky, 
assuming  now  one  form  and  now  another,  and  all  fan- 
tastic and  vain  ;  while,  amid  them  and  above  them  all, 
Love  lay  smiling  upon  roses,  and  religion,  sacred  reli- 
gion, like  the  sun,  animated  all.  A  mighty  change  had 
passed  over  him.  Tried  in  a  fiery  furnace,  the  gentle 
and  retiring  boy  had  yielded  to  the  grave,  stern,  and 
decided  character,  which  fearful  trials  had  wrought. 
And  if  sorrow  somewhat  tempered  and  softened  it,  it 
was  but  to  throw  around  it  an  interest  which  might 
else  have  been  wanting ;  like  that  rich,  soft,  yellow 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  169 

light,  thrown  by  the  setting  sun  upon  the  lofty  peaks  of 
rock,  which  crown  as  it  were  with  desolation  the  moun- 
tains that  support  them.  Love  indeed  still  held  the 
front  ground  of  the  picture,  but  how  different  from  that 
happy  and  prosperous  affection,  passing  life  away  like 
the  dream  of  a  moonlight  night,  which  his  imagination 
had  painted  there.  To  his  religion  too  he  had  become 
an  apostate  ;  nay,  had  desecrated  her  very  altars  in  the 
indulgence  of  his  wild  flame — he  had  become,  though 
innocent,  amenable  to  the  laws  of  his  country,  and  was 
subject  to  a  shameful  death.  "  Be  it  so,"  thought  he. 
"  Death  can  have  no  pang  for  me,  like  those  of  life  with- 
out Lucilla."  The  certainty  of  reaching  Pompeii  now, 
before  the  fatal  day  of  the  games,  unless  some  unex- 
pected accident  should  intervene,  had  somewhat  stilled 
that  nervous  restlessness,  which  after  the  departure  of 
Lucilla  had  possessed  him  ;  and  it  was  with  compara- 
tive calmness  that  he  now  paced  backward  and  for- 
ward upon  the  deck  of  the  little  bark,  that  was  bearing 
him  perhaps  to  a  cruel  and  a  public  death.  He  could 
not  avoid  noticing  from  time  to  time,  the  intense  and 
vivid  brightness  with  which  Vesuvius  seemed  to  glow, 
and  the  hollow,  heavy,  and  frequent  reports  that  accom- 
panied them.  But  in  his  own  mind  there  was  a  more 
fearful  volcano,  and  to  that  he  turned  with  deep  and 
unwavering  anxiety. 

An  accident  happening  to  their  mast  detained  them  a 
few  hours  on  their  passage,  and  it  was  dark  when  they 
rounded  the  promontory  of  Misenum,  where  the  Roman 
fleet  under  the  command  of  Pliny43  was  then  riding 
at  anchor  in  the  bay,  and  beheld  once  more  the  Pharos 
of  Neapolis.  But  they  paused  not  there.  Crossing 
15 


170  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

the  bay,  still  alive  with  numerous  boats,  they  directed 
their  course  to  the  city  of  Pompeii,  and  soon  entered 
the  embouchure  of  the  Sarnus,  and  ran  quickly  in  to  the 
quay,  mooring  at  the  side  of  a  Phoenician  trader.  An 
uncommon  stir  and  bustle  seemed  to  prevail  in  the  city ; 
lights  were  glancing  to  and  fro,  and  bustle  and  activ- 
ity seemed  every  where  to  pervade  it.  With  a  faint- 
ing heart  Lucius  heard  one  of  the  boatmen  inquire  the 
cause  of  this  from  a  sailor  who  was  lounging  over  the 
side  of  the  Phcenician  vessel. 

"  Do  you  not  know,"  replied  the  man,  "  that  to- 
morrdw  there  is  to  be  an  exhibition  at  the  amphitheatre, 
which  is  to  last  all  day  and  night.  Several  combats  of 
wild  beasts  of  various  kinds  ;  a  horse  and  a  lioness,  a 
bear  and  a  bull,  a  tiger  44  and  a  monkey,  are  some 
of  them.  And  then  the  amphitheatre  is  to  be  set  with 
trees,  and  there  are  to  be  hunts  of  different  beasts,  and 
fights  with  them  by  torch-light ;  and  some  Christians 
are  to  be  punished.  So  all  the  world  are  flocking  in 
to  secure  their  places.  And  on  the  other  hand,  the 
mountain  to-day,  after  a  loud  report,  threw  out  a  vast 
quantity  of  ashes  which  fell  in  the  streets  a  digit  deep ; 
so  while  every  one  living  out  of  the  city  is  crowding 
in,  many  who  live  in  it  are  crowding  out  with  their  fur- 
niture and  valuables." 

While  he  was  yet  speaking,  his  voice  was  suddenly 
drowned  by  a  report  so  deep  and  so  loud,  that  it  seem- 
ed to  make  the  very  earth  rock.  A  flash  of  light  ac- 
companied it,  so  vivid  and  intense,  that  every  other 
light  seemed  quenched  in  its  intolerable  brightness. 
Involuntarily,  all  placed  their  hands  over  their  eyes, 
and  bowed  their  heads  to  shield  them  from  the  blind- 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  171 

ing  glare.  Some  minutes  of  silence  succeeded  ;  and 
then  a  pattering  shower  of  hot  cinders  and  ashes,  mixed 
\vith  large  drops  of  water,45  descended  upon  their  heads. 
For  the  space  of  about  two  minutes,  the  air  was  filled 
with  this  fearful  shower,  as  in  a  heavy  fall  of  snow  ; 
then  it  gradually  ceased. 

As  for  Lucius,  he  instantly  left  the  boat  and  repaired 
to  the  house  of  Cennius.  There  all  was  confusion  and 
disorder.  No  one  of  the  family  could  be  found.  He 
therefore  repaired  to  the  house  of  Lucilla's  sister,  Cor- 
nelia, whose  marriage  he  mentions  having  attended. 
From  her  he  learnt  that  Lucilla  on  her  arrival  had  in- 
stantly surrendered  herself  to  free  her  mother.  The 
priests,  however,  had  sufficient  influence  and  sufficient 
baseness  to  refuse  to  liberate  Favella,  notwithstanding 
Lucilla's  having  been  recovered.  They  were  both  now 
in  prison,  under  orders  for  the  most  strict  confinement 
and  the  most  rigid  treatment,  till  some  punishment 
should  be  devised  adequate  to  the  offence.  The  jailor 
himself,  however,  she  informed  him,  was  a  Chris- 
tian, and  as  yet  unsuspected  ;  and  through  his  kind 
offices,  they  received  many  soothing  attentions,  and 
were  privately  permitted  to  see  each  other.  "I  doubt 
not,"  she  said,  "  that  I  shall  be  able  by  his  means  to 
procure  you  an  interview  with  Lucilla.  Indeed/*  she 
added.  "  I  expect  the  jailor  here  every  moment,  for  he 
is  in  the  habit  of  coming  about  this  hour,  to  give  me 
an  account  of  them. 

While  she  was  yet  speaking,  Naso,  the  jailor,  was 
admitted.  Cornelia  introduced  Lucius  to  him.  His 
story  was  too  well  and  too  publicly  known  to  need  any 
other  introduction  than  his  name.  Naso  readily  pro- 


172  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

mised  the  following  night  to  permit  him  to  see  Lucilla, 
and  the  situation  of  her  prison,  her  health,  her  spirits, 
and  her  looks,  were  inquired  after  with  all  a  lover's 
minuteness,  and  the  time  and  place  of  meeting  ap- 
pointed. It  was  with  a  lighter  heart  that  Lucius  retir- 
ed to  await  the  desired  evening  of  the  coming  day. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

TIIE  morning  of  that  eventful  day  at  length  appear- 
ed. Calm,  and  bright,  and  beautiful  the  sun  arose  in 
a  cloudless  sky.  Vesuvius  too  seemed  to  be  reposing 
after  her  fearful  displays  of  the  preceding  day.  A  thin 
column  of  smoke  alone  was  seen  rising  perpendicularly 
from  the  yawning  crater,  till  high  in  the  air  it  grad- 
ually spread  in  a  horizontal  direction,  overhanging  the 
steady  column  that  was  perpetually  rising,  like  the 
spreading  foliage  of  some  colossal  tree.  Long  before 
this  hour,  the  streets  and  every  avenue  to  the  city  were 
crowded  with  those  about  to  become  spectators  of  the 
cruel  sport  of  the  day.  All  seemed  gay  and  smiling 
and  happy.  Again  the  preparatory  crowding  and  jost- 
ling took  place — the  streets  were  again  filled  with 
beasts,  and  men,  and  women  ;  cars,  chariots,  and  wag- 
ons containing  the  beasts  for  exhibition  ;  laughing  and 
railing,  oaths,  invocations,  yells,  and  growls,  in  short 
all  the  noise  and  confusion  of  a  city  like  Pompeii,  pre- 
vious to  such  exhibitions. 

Gradually  the  smoke  rose  denser  and  blacker  from 
the  crater.  An  unnatural  stillness  seemed  to  reign 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  173 

over  every  thing  but  man.  The  waters  of  the  Sarnus 
and  the  bay  slept  without  a  ripple  or  a  wave.  Every 
leaf  upon  every  tree  hung  motionless.  The  very  shouts 
that  were  occasionally  heard,  were  repeated  and  re-echo- 
ed along  the  motionless  air  for  minutes  after  the  sound 
had  ceased,  seeming  as  if  every  particular  voice  were 
caught  up  and  repeated  in  mockery  by  a  thousand 
others.  When  the  sullen  roar  of  Vesuvius  was  growled 
forth,  the  repetitions  and  reverberations  were  painful 
and  deafening.  Gradually  the  soft  blue  sky  changed 
to  a  sullen,  coppery  hue,  as  it  was  seen  through  the 
fast  increasing  smoke.  The  sun,  shorn  of  his  beams, 
hung  like  a  disk  of  copper  in  the  frightfully  serene 
heavens.  The  flashes  of  the  mountain  became  more 
frequent  and  more  vivid,  shedding  at  the  same  time  over 
every  object  a  glare  of  such  ghastly  light,  as  to  induce 
the  idea  that  light  itself  had  perished,  and  that  this 
staring  glare  was  but  the  color  of  its  corpse.  A  darker 
and  a  darker  gloom  settled  every  moment  over  the 
horror-struck  city.  In  the  amphitheatre  it  became  un- 
necessary to  wait  till  night  should  bring  darkness  for 
their  torch-light  hunt.  Still  the  games  went  on.  What 
mattered  it  to  the  dying  gladiator,  whether  he  fell 
amid  the  sickness  of  nature  or  under  the  calm  blue 
sky  ?  What  mattered  it  to  the  ravenous  beast  or  to  the 
martyred  Christian  ?  That  light  cheered  not  the  eye  of 
the  dead — it  added  not  to  the  torture  of  the  beast  the 
sight  of  the  demon  man — nor  did  it  hide  the  Christian 
from  the  eye  of  his  God. 

A  sort  of  sepulchral  twilight  was  all  that  remained. 
The  crowd  for  the  most  part  was  now  seen  traversing 
the   city  with  their  valuables  in  their  hands  to  «ave 
15* 


174  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

themselves  from  the  terrible  and  unknown  danger. 
Nothing  was  heard  in  the  street  save  the  heavy,  inces- 
sant tramp  of  feet — and  an  occasional  call  of  some 
mother  upon  a  loitering  child — a  sister  to  a  brother — 
a  husband  to  a  wife — a  child  to  a  parent. 

The  games  of  the  amphitheatre  alone  went  on,  un- 
heeding the  terrors  without.  The  venerable  Vetullius 
was  now  brought  forward  for  the  second  time  upon  the 
bloody  arena,  to  seal  his  faith  with  his  blood.  By  his 
side  stood  Favella — the  former  to  suffer  for  being  a 
Christian,  the  latter  for  being  a  mother.  But  the 
superstitious  crowd,  who  remembered  the  former,  as  it 
appeared  to  them,  miraculous  escape  of  Vetullius,  were 
displeased  at  seeing  him  again  brought  forward  to  die. 
A  sullen  murmur  ran  through  the  assembly,  which 
gradually  swelled  to  a  noisy  clamor  for  his  liberation. 
The  arena  was  thick  set  with  trees,  which,  placed 
at  intervals,  formed  a  sort  of  artificial  forest.  From 
the  boughs  were  suspended  lamps,  and  in  the  hand  of 
the  old  man  were  placed  a  torch  and  a  sword.  Favella 
stood  firm  in  the  appalling  circumstances  in  which 
she  was  placed.  Her  fine,  matronly  form  was  seen 
leaning  against  one  of  the  trees,  her  head  hanging 
down,  more  from  modesty  than  from  fear.  She  stood 
utterly  unprotected  and  helpless  against  the  monsters 
they  were  about  to  let  loose  upon  them.  She  thought 
not  of  herself,  her  only  care  was  for  her  innocent  and 
hapless  child. 

Meantime,  the  clamor  excited  by  the  appearance  of 
Vetullius  was  far  from  being  stilled.  The  president  of 
the  games  arose  and  addressed  the  people  ;  but  his 
efforts  to  pacify  them  were  fruitless.  The  crowd  looked 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  175 

upon  Vetullius  with  a  sort  of  superstitious  fear,  since 
his  wonderful  and  most  unexpected  escape  ;  and  seem 
ed  to  think  that  to  destroy  one  whom  the  gods  had 
so  miraculously  protected  could  not  be  effected  with- 
out the  commission  of  a  crime.  Vetullius  himself 
at  length  turned  to  the  crowd  as  if  to  address  them. 
The  tumult  instantly  subsided.  All  were  eager  to 
hear  what  he  himself  would  say  upon  the  occasion. 
He  began  by  reproving  them  for  their  cruel,  amuse- 
ments, and  for  the  innocent  blood  they  had  shed. 
That  blood  he  told  them  would  call  aloud  for  ven- 
geance. "  For  myself,"  said  he,  "  I  am  an  old  man.  I 
have  lived  long  enough,  for  I  have  lived  long  enough 
not  to  fear  to  die.  Yet  helpless  and  worthless  as 
I  am,  think  not  that  my  blood  will  sink  into  the 
sands.  It  will  be  avenged — speedily,  fearfully."  As 
he  uttered  these  words  the  president  gave  the  sig- 
nal to  have  the  wild  beasts  turned  in  ;  for  he  saw 
that  the  fickle  crowd  was  provoked  that  he  should 
presume  to  rebuke  them,  and  condemn  their  favor- 
ite amusement ;  at  the  same  time  they  were  enraged 
that  he  should  threaten  them  with  punishment.  The 
signal  therefore  was  heard  without  further  clamor  or 
confusion.  The  spectators  were  seen  settling  quietly 
into  their  places,  and  arranging  themselves  in  the  best 
possible  situation  to  obtain  a  view  of  the  spectacle. 

Now  the  amphitheatre  is  situated  near  the  walls 
of  the  city,  in  such  a  manner  that  the  spectators  as 
they  sat  could  have  a  perfect  view  of  Vesuvius.  The 
president,  as  before  stated,  gave  the  signal  for  the 
doors  to  be  thrown  open,  while  the  people,  indignant 
that  he  should  presume  to  threaten  them,  opposed 


176      '  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

no  farther  obstacle.  But  before  the  order  could  be 
executed,  a  flash,  whose  brightness  was  too  intense 
to  be  borne,  was  seen,  and  was  instantly  followed  by 
a  report  so  long,  so  loud,  so  deep,  that  the  affright- 
ed crowd  burst  from  their  seats  with  a  general  cry 
of  horror.  It  seemed  as  if  the  earth  was  rent  from  its 
central  core.  "  It  is  the  vengeance  of  the  Christian," 
shouted  some. 

"  It  is  the  vengeance  of  the  Almighty,"  replied  Ve- 
tullius.  The  terrible  mountain  had  suddenly  opened 
its  abysses — it  seemed  to  cleave  and  be  rent  in  various 
directions,  and  from  every  cleft  burst  torrents  of  flame, 
roaring  and  curling  high  in  the  air.  From  the  centre 
of  the  crater,  a  solid  column  of  fire  was  seen  shooting 
up  into  the  very  heavens,  and  falling  at  last  in  showers 
of  lava,  melted  stones,  solid  rock,  ashes,  cinders,  boil- 
ing water,  and  every  variety  of  volcanic  matter.  Huge 
masses  of  stone,  larger  than  the  temple  of  Isis,  were 
hurled  flying  into  the  air  as  lightly  as  the  pebble  from 
the  shepherd's  sling.  Rivers  of  liquid  fire  were  seen 
pouring  down  its  sides  in  every  direction.  A  deep 
cloud,  black  as  midnight,  came  rolling  down  the  moun- 
tain, spread  along  the  land,  and  covered  the  sea  ;  shut- 
ting from  view  the  island  of  Capreae,  the  promontory 
of  Misenum,  and  the  Roman  fleet.  The  roaring  of 
the  flame  alone  was  loud  as  a  cataract.  The  earth 
communicated  a  tremulous  motion  to  the  feet,  as  if 
trembling  with  terror  at  the  stupendous  scene.  Dark- 
ness, deeper  than  midnight,  settled  upon  the  city.  The 
amphitheatre  was  deserted.  Vetullius  was  left  alone. 
The  burning  cinders  and  ashes  poured  down  upon  it, 
mingled  with  torrents  of  sea-water.  The  venerable 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  177 

Christian  retired  to  the  covered  archway,  but  the  ashes 
gained  rapidly  round  him.  He  gathered  his  garments 
closely  about  him,  and  wrapped  his  face  in  his  mantle. 
"  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace," 
he  said,  as  he  laid  himself  down  upon  the  earth  from 
which  he  never  arose. 

Meantime,  Lucius  had  remained  with  Cornelia,  im- 
patiently waiting  the  hour  that  was  to  conduct  him  to 
Lucilla.  But  the  darkness  and  terror  increasing  to  so 
alarming  a  degree,  he  at  last  lost  all  regard  for  pru- 
dence in  his  fears,  and  went  out  into  the  street  to  the 
Civil  Forum,  where  he  knew  was  Lucilla's  prison. 
No  one  noticed  him.  Every  one  was  too  anxions  on 
his  own  immediate  account  to  attend  to  any  other  than 
himself.  Cornelia  accompanied  him,  carrying  in  her 
arms  her  young  child,  from  which  she  would  not  sepa- 
rate. Arrived  at  the  prisons,  the  jailor  was  not  to  be 
found.  In  vain  Lucius  attempted  to  force  the  doors, 
for  no  one  now  cared  or  attended  to  aught  but  himself; 
they  were  too  strong.  While  he  was  thus  occupied, 
that  terrible  explosion,  which  has  been  already  noticed, 
occurred.  As  they  stood  under  the  arched  passage-way, 
suddenly  a  female  was  seen  to  burst  in  at  the  door, 
supported  by  a  man.  It  was  Favella  and  Caius  Mar- 
cus. The  good-natured  priest  shook  the  hand  of  Lu- 
cius warmly  for  an  instant,  then  rushed  out  again 
amid  the  shower  of  cinders  and  ashes.  He  was  gone 
but  a  moment,  and  returned  bearing  the  affrighted 
Naso. 

"  By  Hercules,"  said  the  priest,  as  he  wiped  his 
brow,  after  throwing  down  his  burden  as  he  would  have 
done  a  bale  of  goods,  "  I  have  done  harder  work  in 


1  78  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

cooler  weather  without  fatigue.  I  caught  a  glimpse  of 
the  rogue  getting  away  as  fast  as  the  crowd  would  let 
him  and  the  love  of  life  could  make  him.  So  I  thought 
it  best  to  bring  him  back  here,  to  let  out  some  of  his 
protegees,  as  he  would  best  know  where  to  find  them, 
and  time  is  precious  now." 

"  I  obtest  these  witnesses,"  said  the  man,  too  much 
terrified  to  know  well  what  he  was  about,  or  what  was 
required  of  him,  "  that  I  am  forcibly  compelled  to  vio- 
late my  duty.  I  will  complain  to  the  Decurions." 

"  Complain  to  Pluto,"  said  the  priest,  "  for  our  next 
meeting  with  the  Decurions  is  likely  to  be  in  his  realm. 
Come  along."  And  raising  him  with  his  ponderous 
strength,  that  would  have  raised  an  ox  if  necessary, 
he  bore  him  along  after  Julius,  whose  knowledge  of 
the  situation  of  Lucilla's  prision,  that  he  had  obtain- 
ed the  evening  before,  now  stood  him  in  good  stead. 
They  soon  arrived  at  the  door,  which  Lucius  conjec- 
tured to  be  Lucilla's ;  and  rousing  the  man  from  his 
stupor  of  terror,  they  bade  him  open  it.  He  obeyed 
almost  mechanically,  and  in  an  instant  Lucius  was 
locked  in  the  arms  of  Lucilla.  For  a  moment,  even 
the  agony  and  terror  of  the  present  scene  were  forgot- 
ten in  the  joy  of  reunion.  He  seized  her  hand.  "  For 
ever  ?  "  he  softly  uttered. 

"  For  ever  and  for  ever,"  she  replied. 

Turning  to  Marcus,  Lucius  inquired,  "  Whither  had 
we  better  go  now '?  " 

"  Go !  "  replied  the  priest,  "  go  out  of  the  city  as  fast 
as  you  can,  and  as  soon  as  you  are  beyond  the  limits 
of  its  walls,  take  the  direction  opposite  to  the  moun- 
tain, and  go  that  way  without  stopping,  if  you  would 
escape." 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  179 

"  You,"  replied  Lucius,  "  what,  and  will  not  you 
accompany  us  ?  " 

"  No,  my  friend.  Isis  has  been  true  to  me  in  my 
prosperity,  which  has  been  pretty  much  all  my  lifetime. 
I  will  not  abandon  her  now.  My  duty  is  there  ;  and 
live  or  die,  it  shall  be  on  the  ground  of  my  duty.  Be- 
sides, that  heavy  jailor  has  made  me  as  hungry  as  a 
tiger,  that  has  been  kept  a  week  without  food  to  make 
him  show  game  on  the  arena." 

"  Then  farewell,"  said  Lucius.  "  My  friend,  to  me 
you  have  been  most  faithful  and  kind.  God  bless  you. 
Here  we  may  never  meet  again,  but  trust  me  we  shall 
meet  hereafter." 

"  What !  "  said  Marcus,  "  do  you  Christians  allow 
those  without  the  pale,  to  inhabit  your  elysium  ? " 

"  Is  it  not  written,  that  He  is  no  respecter  of  per- 
sons, but  that  in  every  age  and  nation  whosoever  fear- 
el  h  Him  and  worketh  righteousness  shall  be  accepted 
of  him?" 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Marcus,  "  I  know  not  who  may  be 
right  or  who  wrong  ;  but  perhaps  after  all  we  approach 
nearer  to  each  other's  practice  than  many  believe. 
Farewell,  my  friend — if  for  ever,  still  farewell — for 
ever."  And  wringing  his  hand,  he  turned  aside  his 
head  to  hide  a  tear,  that  spite  of  his  efforts  to  restrain  it, 
would  appear ;  then  gathering  his  mantle  over  his 
head,  the  kind-hearted  man  again  rushed  out  into  the 
blinding  shower,  and  the  deeper  than  midnight  dark- 
ness of  the  city. 

"  I  know  not,  dear  Lucilla,"  said  Lucius,  "  if  we 
shall  ever  more  behold  each  other's  face,  but  living  or 
dying  we  separate  not  again  ;  "  and  he  passed  his  arm 


180  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

round  her  waist,  as  if  fearful  of  again  losing  her.  Fa- 
vella  with  her  grandchild  in  her  arms  bound  herself  to 
his  left  arm,  with  a  strip  torn  from  her  robe,  in  order 
that  they  might  not  to  be  separated  by  the  press  of  the 
crowd,  or  by  the  darkness,  from  each  other.  Cornelia 
followed  behind,  attaching  herself  to  his  toga,  while  all 
protected  their  heads  as  much  as  possible  from  the 
scorching  shower,  by  enveloping  them  in  the  thick  folds 
of  their  mantles.  The  terrified  Naso  followed  behind  ; 
and  in  this  order  they  again  stepped  out  into  the  street, 
and  attempted  to  make  their  way  to  the  Herculanean 
gate. 

It  was  noon-day ;  but  the  darkness  was  terrific. 
Even  the  vivid  flashes  of  the  mountain  were  no  longer 
perceptible  through  the  dense  and  crowded  atmo- 
sphere. Hot  cinders  and  ashes,  which  were  prevented 
from  burning  to  death  the  unfortunates  on  whom  they 
fell,  only  by  the  amazing  quantity  of  sea-water  that  fell 
along  with  them,  came  down  like  rain.  Through  the 
streets  nothing  was  heard  but  the  cry  of  mother,  sister, 
brother,  &c.  as  each  sought  the  friends,  whom  now 
they  could  distinguish  only  by  their  voices.  The  rush- 
ing crowd  was  only  to  be  felt — nothing  could  be  seen. 
The  bouses  rocked  in  the  terrible  earthquakes  like 
barks  on  the  waters.  The  earth  trembled  like  a  fright- 
ed child.  Already  the  ashes  had  fallen  to  the  depth  of 
several  feet46  above  the  pavement.  The  hands  and 
faces  of  Lucius  and  his  companions  were  burnt  and 
blistered.  A  suffocating  heat  pervaded  the  atmosphere. 
They  would  have  given  worlds  for  one  breath  of  cool, 
fresh  air.  But  when  they  attempted  to  get  it,  they 
inhaled  only  hot  cinders,  and  a  thin  burning  atmo- 
sphere. 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  181 

The  ashes  penetrated  to  every  part  of  their  dress. 
In  the  folds  of  their  robes,  in  the  mantles  that  protect- 
ed their  heads,  upon  their  necks — every  where  it 
lodged  and  collected.  Their  feet  were  blistered,  and 
their  sandals  almost  burnt  from  their  feet.  Favella 
was  the  first  to  stop.  "  I  can  go  no  farther,"  said  she. 
"  Kiss  me  and  leave  me,  my  children."  With  one 
voice  they  declared  that  her  fate  should  be  theirs,  and 
that  they  would  either  escape  or  perish  together.  In 
vain  she  supplicated  and  prayed  them  to  leave  her. 
"  You  are  young,"  she  said,  "  and  I  have  the  weight 
of  years  upon  me.*  You  may  escape — for  me  escape  is 
impossible.  Go,  my  children,  I  shall  die  content,  if  I 
have  not  been  the  cause  of  your  death."  Their  only 
reply  was  to  repeat  what  they  had  said  before.  Lu- 
cius, passing  his  arm  round  her  waist,  gently  forced 
her  along.  She  yielded  to  the  gentle  force,  at  the 
same  time  reproaching  herself  as  the  cause  of  their 
delay,  and  them  for  their  disobedience  to  her  orders. 
Almost  exhausted,  they  at  length  succeeded  in  reaching 
the  gates  of  the  city  ;  but  here  the  strength  of  Favella 
gave  way.  She  sank  upon  the  earth.  In  vain  did 
Lucius  endeavour  to  encourage  her  to  get  at  least  to 
his  father's  house.  There,  he  assured  her,  was  an 
arched  passage-wayf  where  they  would  be  secure,  till 
this  fiery  storm  should  be  passed  over.  It  was  in  vain. 
She  was  but  just  able  to  reach  the  hemicycle  on  the 
left  hand,  near  the  gate,  when  she  sunk  exhausted. 
Her  daughters  knelt  beside  her,  and  she  threw  her 

*  See  Pliny's  account  of  his  escape  with  his  mother,  written  to 
the  historian  Tacitus. 

t  See  description  of  the  house  of  Diomedes,  note  2. 
16 


182  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

arms  around  them  and  blessed  them.  Faithfully  did 
these  girls  redeem  their  promise  to  save  her  or  to  die 
with  her.  From  that  embrace  they  rose  not.  The 
thick  falling  ashes  closed  over  them,  as  the  waves  of 
the  sea  close  over  their  victims  ;  and  the  unfortunate 
Lucius  and  Lucilla  lay  side  by  side  beneath  that  deadly 
and  burning  mass,  their  arms  twined  around  each 
other's  neck,  united  at  last  only  in  death. 


On  a  recurrence  to  history,  I  find  that  the  erup- 
tion lasted  three  days.  "  The  universe  seemed  perish- 
ing. Men  believed  that  chaos  had  returned,  and  that 
the  earth  was  to  be  consumed  by  fire.  But  at  the 
expiration  of  that  time  the  eruption  began  to  subside. 
The  .sun,  once  more  unveiled,  looked  out  on  the  scene. 
The  whole  of  the  neighbouring  coast  had  vanished. 
The  ashes  and  the  cinders  had  reached  even  to  Egypt 
and  Syria  ;  and  when  light  again  stole  out  from  the 
gloom,  Pompeii,  Herculaneum,  Stabia,  Retina,  Oplonte, 
Tegianum,  Tamania,  Cosa,  and  Veseride,  all  had  dis- 
appeared. In  their  places  were  only  mountains  of  half 
congealed  lava,  hot  stones,  and  smoking  cinders." 

The  following  facts  relative  to  the  excavations  now 
making,  I  extract  from  Bonucci's  History  of  Pompeii, 
published  at  Naples,  in  182S.  It  seems  to  relate  to 
some  of  the  characters  mentioned  in  the  above  vera- 
cious narrative,  as  well  as  to  throw  some  light  upon  the 
fate  of  poor  Marcus. 

"  Vesuvius  had  for  an  instant  suspended  his  fury, 
when  an  unfortunate  mother  bearing  an  infant  in  her 
arms,  and  with  two  young  daughters,  endeavoured  to 


TALE  OF  POMPEII.  183 

profit  by  the  opportunity,  and  to  fly  from  their  country- 
house  to  Nola,  the  city  the  least  threatened  by  this 
unspeakable  catastrophe  !  Arrived  at  the  foot  of  the 
above-mentioned  hemicycle,  the  volcano  recommenced 
its  ravages  with  redoubled  fury.  Stones,  cinders,  fire, 
melted  and  boiling  substances,  rained  from  all  sides, 
and  surrounded  the  miserable  fugitives.  The  unfortu- 
nates sought  refuge  at  the  foot  of  a  tomb,  where  repos- 
ed perhaps  the  ashes  of  their  fathers  ;  and  invoking  in 
the  most  frightful  despair  the  gods,  deaf  to  their  prayers, 
they  closely  embraced  their  mother  as  they  breathed  out 
their  last  sigh,  and  in  this  situation  they  remained.  Near 
them  were  found  two  other  skeletons  of  men  ;  the  one 
stretched  on  his  back  with  his  arms  open,  the  other  on 
his  face.  The  latter  had  upon  him  sixty-one  golden 
coins,  mixed  with  a  hundred  and  twenty-one  of  silver. 
Among  the  female  skeletons  were  found  two  elegant 
ear-rings,  in  the  form  of  a  balance  suspended  from  a 
golden  wire  ;  and  also  three  golden  rings,*  one  of 
which  had  the  form  of  a  serpent  several  times  twist- 
ed round,  whose  head  pointed  up  the  finger.  One 
other,  which  from  its  size  could  have  belonged  only 
to  the  small  and  beautiful  hand  of  a  young  girl,  con- 
tained a  garnet,  on  which  was  graven  a  thunderbolt, 
indicating  in  these  interesting  victims,  taste,  wealth, 
and  a  distinguished  rank." 

This  excavation  was  made  A.  D.  1811 ;  and  it  is 
evident  from  the  author's  mode  of  accounting  for  these 
skeletons  being  found  there,  that  he  was  ignorant  of 
the  veracious  history  contained  in  these  pages. 

In  the  same  history  of  the  excavations  just  quoted 

*  A  ring  was  the  index  of  noble  family. 


184  TALE  OF  POMPEII. 

page  175,  in  the  description  the  temple  of  Isis,  as  it 
was  found  at  the  excavation,  is  the  following.  Speak- 
ing of  the  refectory : — "  In  this  chamber  was  found 
the  skeleton  of  a  priest,  who  was  at  table.  He  had 
eaten  eggs  and  chickens  ;  and  had  drunk  wine.  The 
remnants  of  the  dinner  and  the  vessels  were  overturned 
upon  the  floor,  and  his  own  bones  lay  scattered  be- 
neath the  seat." 


NOTES. 


1  THE  natural  day  was  from  sunrise  to  sunset.     It  was  divided, 
as  was  also  the  night,  into  twelve  hours,  whose  length  varied 
according  to  the  season  of  the  year.     The  night  was  divided  into 
four  watches,   each  consisting   of  three  hours,   which  likewise 
varied  with  the  season  of  the  year.     One  o'clock  began  at  sunrise 
and  sunset. — Adam's  Roman  Antiquities. 

2  House  of  Diamedes,  excavated  from  1771  to  1774. — It  is  di- 
vided into   two  stories,  ranged  en  amphitheatre,  the  highest  of 
which  is  almost  upon  a  level  with  the  public  street.     It  had  a 
third  above  this  last ;  thus  this  house  might  by  called  a  tristega. 
It  has  no  equal  in  Pompeii  for  elegance  and  grandeur. 

Mounting  a  'few  steps,  we  enter,  through  a  small  door,  an  open 
court  surrounded  by  fourteen  columns  covered  with  stucco  and 
with  brilliant  colors.  A  flower-garden  was  in  the  centre,  and  a 
little  canal  received  the  water  from  the  porticoes,  and  transported 
it  to  two  cisterns.  Their  mouths,  putealia,  made  of  volcanic 
stone,  may  still  be  seen  with  the  cavities  made  purposely  for  the 
cord.  A  mosaic  work,  with  signinum,  adorns  the  pavement.  4 

On  the  right  of  the  peristyle  are  the  chambers  where  the  men 
dwelt,  and  where  strangers  received  hospitality.  On  the  left  is  the 
apartment  of  the  baths.  In  the  first  there  is  seen  a  little  basin  for 
cold  water,  crowned  by  a  pretty  little  intercolumniation,  with 
octagonal  columns,  at  the  extremity  of  which  is  a  stove,  where 
were  found  a  gridiron  and  two  frying-pans,  still  blackened  with 
smoke. 

At  the  side  is  the  chamber  for  undressing,  and  in  the  next  room 
is  the  furnace  where  the  water  was  heated.  These  rooms  were 
commonly  decorated  with  stucco  and  arabesques  of  very  delicate 

16* 


186  NOTES. 

taste.  Over  the  bath,  and  between  the  porticoes,  were  painted 
trees  laden  with  fruit,  and  fishes  of  every  kind,  which  seemed  to 
swim  at  the  bottom  of  the  waters. 

Thence  we  mount  to  the  bath-room  over  the  furnace  by  which 
it  was  heated.  It  is  entered  by  crossing  another  chamber,  in 
which  they  left  their  clothes ;  and  the  tepidarium,  where  the 
sweat  and  moisture  were  scraped  off  with  strigils  ;  after  which 
they  anointed  themselves.  Here  were  wooden  seats ;  below 
on  the  ground  the  form  of  a  basket ;  and  over  the  window  a  sash 
with  four  panes  of  window-glass  similar  to  ours. 

The  bath-room  contained  on  one  side  the  bath  for  warm  water, 
and  on  the  other  a  niche  in  the  form  of  a  shell,  with  two  windows. 
There  is  seen  on  the  surface  of  the  wall,  the  passage  along  which 
passed  the  heat  of  the  flames  below,  and  which  rendered  this 
chamber,  and  especially  the  niche,  a  true  furnace.  By  means  of 
a  large  hole  bored  in  the  wall,  the  heat  passed  into  and  warmed 
the  tepidarium.  A  window-pane  tempered  the  heat. 

Descending,  we  pass  by  one  of  the  porticoes  of  the  peristyle  into 
the  pantry,  where  were  found  kitchen  utensils  around  a  marble 
table,  supported  by  the  statue  of  Hebe.  Farther  on  are  the  sleep- 
ing-chambers, formerly  rich  in  paintings  of  birds,  in  mosaics,  and 
in  marbles.  In  the  middle  of  these  chambers,  there  is  one  in  the 
form  of  a  semicircle,  destined  for  a  dining-room.  The  place 
where  the  table  stood,  can  be  very  well  distinguished  ;  at  its  side 
is  seen  a  garde-robe.  Here  were  found  some  little  glass  vessels, 
and  some  in  bronze,  moulds  for  pastry,  two  tripods  with  shells,  a 
basin,  a  candelabrnm.  and  two  knives  with  handles  of  bone.  Fishes 
were  painted  upon  the  walls.  Three  large  windows,  which  look- 
ed upon  the  country  from  the  east  to  the  south  elegantly  adorned 
it,  receiving  the  sun  at  all  hours  of  the  day;  and  introduced  into 
the  apartment  the  perfume  of  flowers,  and  of  roses,  some  plants  of 
which  were  recognised  in  the  field  below. 

In  front,  another  apartment  appears,  composed  of  a  room  for 
company  (exedra),  of  a  gallery,  and  of  some  open  galleries  over- 
looking the  domestic  garden  and  the  sea.  This  rendered  this  little 
quarter  the  pleasantest  of  all  the  house. 

In  looking  from  these  galleries  down  upon  the  street,  we  ob- 
serve the  habitations  of  the  slaves  and  domestics,  now  the  lodg- 


NOTES.  187 

ings  of  the  veterans  who  guard  the  faubourg.  On  the  left  of  these 
galleries  we  observe  a  fifth  and  more  secret  apartment.  It  was 
the  women's. 

Fragments  of  a  large  vessel  of  wrought  silver,  a  kitchen  utensil 
of  bronze,  a  quantity  of  coins,  morsels  of  ivory,  the  remains  of  a  lit- 
tle statue  which  served  for  ornament  to  some  article  of  furniture, 
were  found  in  the  ashes.  They  had  fallen  from  the  upper  story. 

By  a  little  interior  flight  of  steps,  we  descend  into  the  summer 
apartments.  The  rooms  resting  against  the  hill' are  the  largest 
in  the  whole  house,  and  the  best  adorned  with  paintings  and 
mosaic  pavements.  In  the  dining-room  there  were  found  on  the 
pavement  the  remains  of  a  carpet. 

There  is  a  little  fountain  which  seems  but  to  have  just  ceased 
to  flow.  On  the  same  level  is  seen  the  garden,  surrounded  by  a 
square  colonnade  of  forty-nine  feet  on  the  four  sides.  There  the 
ancients  walked  during  the  rainy  season,  and  there  they  were 
luxuriously  borne  by  their  slaves  on  a  chair  or  litter.  Thither  the 
women  descended  from  their  apartments,  and  reposed  deliciously 
under  the  shade  of  these  porticoes  during  the  heat  of  the  day. 

From  the  garden  we  penetrate  into  a  subterranean  gallery  very 
well  lighted,  to  walk  in  during  the  summer.  There  are  seen 
amphorae  which  contained  the  wine  of  Vesuvius  and  that  of  Pom- 
peii equally  famous.  In  this  gallery  were  found  twenty  skeletons 
near  each  other,  two  of  which  were  of  children.  At  the  side  of 
these  skeletons  there  were  found,  in  gold — two  necklaces,  one  of 
which  was  adorned  with  blue  stones,  and  four  rings  with  graven 
stones  ;  in  silver — two  rings,  a  large  pin,  the  foot  of  some  piece  of 
furniture,  and  thirty-one  coinsf^in  bronze — a  candelabrum,  a  vase, 
forty-four  coins,  and  a  bunch  of  keys.  These  objects  might 
belong  to  those  of  the  family  who  had  sought  refuge  here  ;  but 
they  were  covered  there  with  ashes  and  water,  which,  forming  a 
kind  of  paste,  surrounded  their  bodies  and  took  exactly  their  forms. 
In  the  Museo  Borbonico  are  preserved  many  specimens  of  this 
consolidated  ashes.  One  of  them  preserves  the  form  of  a  superb 
bosom,  another  the  contour  of  an  arm  and  its  ornaments,  another 
a  part  of  the  shoulders  and  of  the  waist ;  all  announces  that  these 
women  were  young,  tall,  and  well-formed,  but  that  they  did  not 
fly  almost  naked,  as  Dupaty  affirms,  for  not  only  the  print  of  their 


188  NOTES. 

linen  remains  visibly  impressed  on  the  ashes,  but  also  that  of  their 
robes.  They  preserve  there  also  the  skull  of  one  of  these  girls, 
with  the  remains  of  light  hair,  the  molar  teeth,  and  the  bone  of  an 
arm. 

The  skeleton  of  a  fugitive  who  had  a  key  in  one  hand,  a  ring  and 
a  rouleau  of  ten  pieces  of  gold  and  eighty-eight  of  silver  in  the 
other,  was  discovered  near  the  door  which  opens  towards  the  sea. 
At  the  distance  of  some  paces,  under  the  porticoes,  were  found  two 
others.  Without  the  villa  were  found  nine  of  different  conditions, 
to  judge  of  them  by  the  quality  of  their  ornaments  ;  they  proba- 
bly belonged  to  the  same  family.  They  had  endeavoured  to  save 
something ;  but  they  did  it  with  so  much  precipitation,  that  among 
other  objects,  there  was  found  a  little  ivory  spoon  that  they  had 
lost  in  this  extreme  embarrassment  near  the  superior  door  of  this 
habitation. 

There  is  in  the  centre  of  thegarden  a  fish-pond  of  consider- 
able size,  with  a  fountain  formerly  adorned  with  statues  like  the 
Divers,  and  the  little  Genii  of  bronze  around  the  ponds,  in  some 
of  the  houses  of  Herculaneum.  In  the  angles  we  see  two  little 
rooms  which  served  as  granaries,  or  places  of  deposit  for  agri- 
cultural utensils. 

This  house  was  surrounded  without  by  various  other  gardens, 
and  by  a  field  of  which  the  land  was  found  tilled  in  furrows, 
and  the  barn  for  threshing  the  grain. — Translated  from  Bonucci. 

3  For  modesty's  sake.  "  It  was  customary  for  them,"  i.  e.  young 
men  after  putting  on  the  toga  virilis,  "  as  a  mark  of  modesty, 
during  the  first  whole  year  to  keep  their  right  arm  within  the  toga. 
Parents  and  guardians  permitted  young  men  to  assume  the  toga 
virilis  sooner  or  later  than  the  age  of  seventeen  as  they  judged 
proper." — Roman  Antiquities. 

4  Street  of  Tombs  or  the  Pagus  Augustus  Felix.— Pompeii  is 
entered  by  one  of  its  faubourgs,  a  village  called  Augustus  Fe- 
lix.    This  village,  discovered  principally  between  1812  and  1814, 
which  stretched  from  the  gate  and  the  walls  of  Pompeii  a  consid- 
erable way  on  the  ancient  route  to  Herculaneum,  was  founded 
by  the  colonies  of  Sylla  and  of  Augustus,  whose  name  it  retained. 
It  might  now  be  called  the  faubourg  of  the  dead,  from  the  great 
quantity  of  tombs  that  cover  it.    There  is  but  a  single  country- 


Immediately  upon  entering  ths  street  of  tombs,  there  maj 
:en  at  a  single  'c'mip-d'ceil  the' whole  extent  of  it,  as  far  as 


NOTES.  189 

house  as  yet  disinterred  there.  But  on  the  declivity  of  the  hill 
may  be  observed  remains  of  every  kind,  not  yet  uncovered,  but 
marked  by  the  swellings  of  the  green  turf.  There  the  citizens 
the  most  distinguished  by  their  offices,  sacred,  civil,  or  military, 
established  their  homes  ;  and  there  they  obtained  public  and  hon- 
ored tombs.  These  dwellings  and  tombs  were  most  closely  con- 
nected ;  and  hence  the  remark  of  C.  Nepos,  that  the  ancients 
in  quitting  life  merely  changed  their  habitation.  The  shades  of 
the  dead  wandered  silently  around  their  ancient  dwellings  ;  they 
partook  at  each  instant  the  same  sentiments,  and  thoughts,  and 
even  tears,  with  their  surviving  family.  In  the  deep  silence  of  a 
dark  and  stormy  night,  they  assisted  at  the  domestic  altars,  where 
they  were  invoked  under  the  name  of  Lares,  and  received  at  the 
foot  of  the  sepulchres,  which  were  the  first  temples  of  every 
nation,  the  sacrifices  and  vows  of  their  children. 

ay  be 
yet 

uncovered,  and  the  tombs  which  adorn  it  on  each  side,  up  to  the 
entrance  of  the  city.  What  magnificence !  How  many  forms 
unknown  to  architecture  and  to  the  arts  ! 

These  tombs,  raised  on  superb  pedestals,  are  crowned  with 
flowers  and  shrubs  of  a  perpetual  verdure.  There  entire  families 
repose  together  within  their  own  domains,  as  if  they  still  dwelt 
together;  the  mother  sleeps  at  the  side  of  the  father,  and  the 
children,  according  to  their  age,  at  the  side  of  the  mother.  The 
inscriptions  are  simple,  and  in  a  style  at  once  tender  and  manly. 

Cenotaphs,  whose  extremities  terminate  in  the  graceful  tangling 
of  palm  and  laurel  boughs,  altars  which  present  the  beautiful  forms 
of  lectistenia,  and  of  temples  which  had  been  raised  to  the  mem- 
ory of  the  citizens  worthy  of  them,  who  had  died  far  from  their 
country,  embellish,  by  the  beauty  of  their  marbles,  these  fields 
of  silence.  Qne  would  take  them  for  so  many  altars  raised  by  the 
Genius  of  the  arts  to  the  silent  Genii  of  mystery  and  death. 

As  this  abode  of  the  dead  offered  coolness  and  shade  from  the 
heat  of  the  sun,  it  became  a  favorite  promenade  and  rendezvous. 
There  the  Pompeian  slept  at  the  foot  of  the  cypresses,  and  sat  on, 
the  pedestals  of  the  monuments. 

The  games,  the  sports,  and  the  liveliness  of  a  people  naturally 


190  NOTES. 

idle,  formed  there  a  singular  contrast  to  the  calmness  and  silence 
which  reigned  over  the  spot  sacred  to  the  repose  of  the  dead. 

Here  might  once  be  seen  mothers  burning  perfumes  before  the 
tombs  of  their  children — girls  watering  with  their  own  hands  the 
poppies  planted  over  the  graves  of  their  lovers — others  pointing 
out  to  their  children  the  spot  where  slept  the  ashes  of  a  father 
who  had  been  their  stay.  All  were  lost  in  the  bitterness  of  sor- 
row and  regret — a  profound  grief  which  makes  no  boast  of  empty 
parade,  and  which  nothing  can  alleviate. — Ti'anslated  from  Bo- 
nucci. 

5  A  skeleton  was  sometimes  introduced  at  feasts  in  the  time  of 
drinking,  in  imitation  of  the  Egyptians ;  upon  which  the  master 
of  the  feast,  looking  at  it,  used  to  say,  "  Vivamus  dum  licet  esse 
bene."      TL7vs  rt  *a<  rfg-rtu,  fftrtai  <yag  «nr«0ava,v  roiouTo;. — Roman 
Antiquities. 

6  The  street  of  tombs  was  closed  by  the  city  gates  which  were 
three  in  number  at  this  place,  viz.  the  central  gate,  of  the  same 
breadth  33  the  street,  and  w':'"h   was  apparently  raised  up   in 
grooves  which  still  remain ;  and  at  each  side  of  it  was  a  little  gate 
for  foot  passengers,  under  which  the  sidewalk  passes.     Directly 
by  them  stands  a  little  niche  or  sentry-box,  where  the  soldier  on 
duty  at  the  gate  might  stand. 

7  In  the  Museo  Borbonico  I  was  shown  a  circular  plate  of  metal 
to  which  belonged  a  hammer ;  and  upon  striking  it,  a  very  loud, 
sonorous  tone  was  produced.     It  is  supposed  that  such  were  used 
in  the  manner  here  specified. 

8  Temple  of  Venus. — This  temple  is  one  of  the  most  consider- 
able of  the  city.     It  was  destined  for  the  college  of  the  Venerei. 
Mention  is  made  of  them  in  this  inscription  which  was  discovered 
there. 

M.  HOLCONIUS  RUFUS  D.  V.  I.  D.  TER. 
C.  EGNATIUS  POSTTJMUS  D.  V.  I.  D.  TER. 

Ex  D.  D.  Jus  LUMINUM 

OBSTRUENDORUM  HS.  00    00    00 

REDEMERUNT  PARIETEMQUE 

PRIVATUM  COL.  VEN.  COR. 

USQUE  AD  TEGULAS 

FACIUND.  COERARUNT 


NOTES.  191 

"M.  Holconius  Rufus  and  C.  Egnatius  Postumus,  duumvirs  of 
justice  for  the  third  time,  by  the  decree  of  the  Decurions  have 
bought  the  right  of  closing  the  windows  for  3000  sesterces  ;  and 
they  have  taken  care  to  build  up  to  the  roof  the  private  wall  of  the 
corporate  College  of  the  Venerei." 

The  architecture  of  this  monument  is  inferior  to  that  of  the 
public  Treasury.  It  has  forty-eight  columns  of  tufo,  covered  with 
stucco,  offhe  Corinthian  order  and  of  bad  proportions,  which  sup- 
port four  porticoes  adorned  with  statues,  with  Hermes,  and  with  su- 
peib  paintings.  Some  of  these  latter  are  very  singular.  They  rep- 
resent Hector  dragged  around  the  walls  of  Troy,  and  Achilles 
drawing  his  sword  upon  Agamemnon,  but  Pallas  holds  his  arm. 
Others  represent  some  scenes  of  the  battles  of  the  Pigmies  and 
the  Cranes,  a  ludicrous  contrast,  by  which  the  painter  wished  to 
translate  to  us,  in  another  language,  the  irony  with  which  Homer 
contemplated  the  exploits  of  the  Mice  and  the  Frogs. 

We  lingered  some  time  in  this  temple,  and  strewed  some  myrtle 
leaves  on  the  steps  of  the  sanctuary,  and  we  seated  ourselves  on 
the  place  where  two  young  lovers  had  offered  to  the  most  ami- 
able of  goddesses,  a  couple  sparrows  and  of  doves. — Translated 
from  Bonucci. 

9  Basilica. — This  is  a  majestic  edifice  which  is  separated  from 
the  temple  of  Venus  only  by  a  little  street.  There  assembled  the 
merchants,  and  there  was  justice  administered. 

At  its  entrance  were  found  the  fragments  of  an  equestrian  statue 
of  bronze  gilt.  Those  found  on  the  front  of  the  Basilica  of  Her- 
culaneum,  were  of  marble ;  the  equestrian  statues  of  the  two 
Nonniuses. 

As  the  ancient  Christian  churches  were  also  tribunals  (of  peni- 
tence), so  they  took  the  form  and  the  name  of  these  monuments. 

The  Basilica  has  an  uncovered  nave  in  the  centre,  and  two 
others  with  porticoes  on  the  sides.  These  last  are  formed  of  two 
rows  of  columns  ;  one  Ionic,  which  rose  to  the  roof,  the  other 
more  interior,  Corinthian,  which  supported  a  second  story,  open- 
ing upon  the  central  nave,  whence  the  magistrates  might  be  seen 
from  every  part  of  the  basilica.  There  inferior  judges  settled 
trifling  causes,  the  lawyers  gave  their  counsel,  and  the  young 
orators  sometimes  declaimed.  The  columns  are  of  brick,  stript 


192  NOTES. 

of  their  stucco,  and  of  a  construction  apparently  so  recent,  that  it 
would  seem  almost  incredible  that  they  should  belong  to  so  an- 
cient an  edifice.  At  the  end  of  the  hall  rose  the  magistrates'  tri- 
bune seven  feet  high.  An  equestrian  statue  was  placed  before  it,  on 
a  high  pedestal.  The  interior  of  the  tribune  formed  a  little  chamber, 
furnished  with  small  grated  windows,  in  which  the  criminals 
were  placed  to  be  interrogated  prior  to  receiving  public  sentence. 
In  the  pavement  of  the  tribune  are  seen  the  openings  through 
which  the  voice  was  heard. 

The  porticoes  were  adorned  with  marble  statues,  and  with 
Hermes  of  bronze.  Among  the  first,  were  some  of  gigantic  size. 
Fragments  of  both  kinds  were  found.  Here  were  also  basins  and 
fountains. 

The  walls,  covered  with  stucco,  are  built  of  large  square  stones 
of  different  colors.  On  the  exterior  were  painted  fanciful  speci- 
mens of  architecture  and  -many  inscriptions  (some  of  which  are 
given  note  16),  made  for  amusement,  with  a  brush,  or  with  iron  ; 
which  announce  the  condition  and  ignorance  of  those  who  made 
them.  Near  the  entrance  of  the  Basilica,  we  saw  three  large 
rooms,  whose  extremities,  made  in  the  form  of  a  semicircle,  and 
the  niches  and  elevated  seats  of  brick,  appear  to  be  the  sacelli, 
appropriated  to  the  magistrates  who  judged  the  minor  causes  of 
the  state.  The  walls  of  these  Curiae,  formerly  covered  with  the 
finest  marbles,  are  built  of  red  bricks,  and  seem  to  have  just  come 
from  the  hands  of  the  workmen. 

The  Forum  was  enclosed  all  round  by  triumphal  arches,  and  by 
iron  railings.  A  step  which  runs  round  it  at  the  sides  prevented 
carriages  from  entering. — Translated  from  Bonucci. 

10  The  Chalcidicum  is  a  species  of  spacious  vestibule  adorned 
with  niches,  and  in  the  present  case,  covered  with  marble  and  sup- 
ported by  sixteen  pilasters.  By  a  large  door,  we  pass  from  the 
vestibule  to  the  interior  porticoes.  They  were  formed  of  forty- 
eight  columns  of  Parian  marble,  of  exquisite  workmanship,  which 
enclosed  on  four  sides  an  uncovered  court,  a  hundred  and  nine- 
teen feet  long,  and  half  as  wide.  At  the  extremity  in  a  superb 
niche  was  what  seems  to  have  been  the  statue  of  Concord.  It 
was  found  near  by,  overturned,  headless,  and  having-  traces  of 
gilding  on  the  borders  of  the  robe. 


NOTES.  193 

The  Crypt  forms  a  second  order  of  porticoes,  more  interior,  and 
more  sheltered  from  the  weather. — Translated  from  Bonucti. 

An  enclosed  gallery,  with  large  windows  to  cool  it  in  summer, 
was  called  Crypto-porticus.  Commonly  they  had  a  double  row 
of  windows. — Adam's  Roman  Antiquities. 

11  As  we  have  formed  no  such  resolution,  we  proceed  to  give 
the  inscription  in  question.     It  is  as  follows  : 

ETTMACHIA  L.  F.  SACERD.  PTJBL.  NOMINE  Suo 

ET  M.  NUMISTRI  FRONTONIS  FILI  CHALCIDICUM 

CRYPTAM  PORTICUS  CONCORDIJE  AUGUSTS  PIETATI 

SUA  PECUJVIA  FECIT  EADEMQUE  DEDICAVIT. 

"Eumachia,  daughter  of  Lucius,  a  public  priestess,  in  her  own 
name  and  in  that  of  her  son  M.  N.  Fronto,  has  built  at  her  own 
expense  the  Chalcidicum  and  Crypto-porticus  of  Concord,  and  has 
dedicated  them  to  the  piety  of  Augustus. " 

12  Statue  of  Eumachia.— This  beautiful  statue   stood  in  the 
Crypto-porticus  already  mentioned.     It  was  raised  in  her  honor 
by  the  washerwomen  of  Pompeii,  for  whose  use  the  porticoes 
were  constructed.     The  centre  of  the  Chalcidicura  evidently  once 
contained  a  sheet  of  water,  in  which  were  several  washing-blocks 
cased  with  white  marble.     This  statue  represents  Eumachia  in  a 
Vestal's  dress ;  her  veil,  which  hangs  down  on  each  side  of  the 
head  leaving  the  face  exposed,  falls  over  the  shoulders  in  front, 
and  is  supported  by  her  right  hand  against  her  breast.     Her  left  is 
also  slightly  raised  in  the  act  of  gracefully  supporting  her  robes. 
On  the  pedestal  of  the  statue  is  the  following  inscription  : 

ElTMACHIJE  L.  F. 

SACERD.  PrjB. 
FUL.LONES. 

13  The  Pantheon  or  Temple  of  Augustus. — This  temple  may 
be  termed  the  gallery  of  the  Pompeian  fetes.     Its  plan  seems  to 
have  been  taken  r   om  that  of  the  temple  of  Serapis  at  Pozzuoli. 

By  a  door  decorated  with  two  orders  of  columns,  with  several 
altars,  and  a  file  of  pedestals  for  statues,  we  have  a  passage  to  a 
place  uncovered,  and  formerly  surrounded  with  a  peristyle,  on 
whose  walls  were  painted  every  thing  requisite  for  a  sumptuous 
repast ;  fish,  a  turkey-cock,  baskets  full  of  eggs,  geese,  partridges 
17 


194  NOTES. 

killed  and  plucked,  vases  for  fruits,  and  a  quantity  of  amphorae  for 
wine.  Over  the  private  entrance  at  the  left,  are  also  seen  oxen, 
sheep,  a  cornucopia  emptying  itself  upon  upturned  dishes,  fruits 
in  vases,  little  genii  who  wreath  garlands  and  flowers  to  distri- 
bute among  the  guests,  and  Psyche  with  her  butterfly  wiugs,  who 
follows  her  lover  to  the  banquet  of  Loves. 

On  the  right  is  ranged  a  row  of  eleven  cabinets,  for  the  repasts  of 
the  most  distinguished  citizens,  with  figures  of  geese,  which  were 
their  principal  viand.  In  front  rises  a  tribune  adorned  with  four 
niches.  On  a  base  there  formerly  stood,  probably,  a  statue  of 
Augustus  ;  since  there  was  found  on  the  ground  an  arm  holding  a 
globe.  At  the  side  are  two  agreeable  statues,  one  of  Livia  in  the 
flower  of  her  age  and  beauty,  the  other  of  Drusus  her  son.  A 
light  drapery  envelopes  the  body  of  this  interesting  child. 

In  the  sacellum  contiguous,  sacrifices  were  offered.  On  a  large 
altar  encrusted  with  marble,  is  still  the  place  (favissa)  where  the 
sacred  instruments  were  deposited.  On  the  stone  seats  on  the 
other  side  of  the  tribune,  the  victims  were  cut  up  and  distributed 
among  the  people,  who  entered  there  by  a  contiguous  door. 
Upon  this  door  were  painted  morsels  of  meat,  a  hatchet  to  cut 
them,  dead  birds,  a  pig's  head,  and  hams.  Beneath  the  seats  is  a 
little  canal,  where  flowed  the  blood  of  the  victims.  It  is  on  this 
account  that  they  were  painted  red.  In  the  depth  is  seen  a  large 
picture  where  were  represented  the  twin  founders  of  Rome  on  the 
knees  of  Laurentia,  and  the  gods  protecting  them  from  on  high. 

From  the  middle  of  the  uncovered  Atrium  rose  in  a  decagon 
twelve  little  pedestals,  for  the  beams  that  support  the  tholus,  a 
light  pavilion  of  wood.  In  this  enclosure  they  prepared  the  meats 
and  distributed  them.  It  was  a  kind  of  little  kitchen.  Here  was 
a  receptacle  for  dirty  water,  &c.  which  was  found  full  of  the 
offals  of  fish,  that  had  been  thrown  there.  Still  further  on  were 
found  amphorae  and  vases  of  bronze. 

A  great  number  of  fresco  paintings  every  where  embellish  this 
edifice,  dedicated  to  the  sacred  banquets ;  which  the  dancing 
girls,  the  poets,  and  the  actors,  animated  with  all  that  the  Greek 
dances  and  recollections  of  glory  and  of  love  could  furnish,  of  the 
most  voluptuous  and  alluring. 

Here  a  Bacchante  leans  on  a  young  actress ;  there  a  beautiful 


NOTES.  195 

musician  seems  desirous  of  pouring  into  your  ear  the  sound  of  the 
lyre  that  she  strikes,  while  one  of  her  companions  is  in  the  atti- 
tude of  repose  ;  she  has  ceased  to  strike  her  lyre,  but  she  seems 
to  meditate  some  new  lay.  One  would  say  that  she  was  waiting 
for  the  inspiration  of  Love. 

Sometimes  one  meets  a  warrior,  a  guard  of  the  Sacrarium ; 
sometimes  young  and  beautiful  priestesses,  who  offer  to  their 
fellow-citizens  poppies  and  presents  of  Ceres. 

Here  is  seen  Etra  discovering  to  Theseus  the  sword  of  his 
father,  till  then  hidden  under  a  rock  ;  and  Ulysses,  sad  and  pensive 
at  his  own  fireside,  can  scarcely  restrain  his  tears  before  Penelope, 
who  has  not  yet  recognised  him.  In  fine,  near  the  principal 
entrance  of  the  temple,  is  painted  an  Emperor,  seated  on  a  pile  of 
arms,  and  crowned  by  Victory.  Vessels  ranged  for  battle,  remind 
us  of  Actium,  and  unite  for  tlie  last  time  Antony  and  Augustus, 
the  triumvirate  and  the  empire. 

Divinities  and  Genii  offering  fruits  on  a  discus,  landscapes,  and 
Victories  on  cars  in  full  career,  palaces  and  arabesques,  complete 
the  ornament  of  this  fine  monument  consecrated  to  the  triumphs 
of  Rome. 

This  temple  was  dedicated  to  Augustus,  whom  Tiberius  had 
deified.  Vitruvius,  who  places  this  temple  in  the  forum,  and 
inscriptions  without  number  found  at  Pompeii,  which  mention  the 
priests  of  Augustus  (Augustales)  and  their  ministers,  confirm 
our  opinion.  These  last  were  chosen  by  two  persons,  to  whom 
was  entrusted  the  charge  of  procuring  by  means  of  public  vows, 
the  performance  of  the  solemnities  consecrated  to  Augustus.  And 
do  not  all  the  signs  of  the  sacred  repast,  and  of  the  distribution  of 
the  entrails  (visceratio)  to  the  people,  as  well  as  the  pictures  of 
the  sacred  ministers  so  often  repeated  in  this  temple,  indicate  the 
history  that  these  inscriptions  so  briefly  explain  ? 

Tacitus  tells  us  that  the  Sodales  Jlugustales  were  priests  who 
sacrificed  to  Augustus.  At  some  paces  from  the  principal  entrance 
of  the  temple,  the  following  fragment  may  be  read  on  marble, 
which  speaks  precisely  of  these  priests,  who  there  had  their  estab- 
lishment. 

....  AMINI  AUGUSTALI  SoDALI 
AUGUSTALI  Q- 


196  NOTES. 

Moreover,  besides  the  public  banquets  and  fetes  celebrated  is 
honor  of  the  birth  and  victories  of  Augustus  and  of  his  successors, 
Dion  relates,  that  the  senate  had  decreed  fetes,  and  the  chace  of 
animals  on  the  anniversary  of  the  death  of  Sejanus ;  and  that  it 
was  the  duty  of  the  four  principal  colleges  of  priests  to  have  them 
executed,  under  the  direction  of  the  Augustales.  In  this  temple, 
where  these  fetes  and  banquets  must  have  taken  place,  are  still 
seen  paintings  of  the  chace  of  animals. 

Near  the  little  door  was  found  a  small  casket  with  a  lock,  in 
which  were  1036  coins  of  bronze,  forty-one  of  silver,  a  fine  gold 
ring  with  an  engraved  stone,  and  another  of  silver.  Towards  the 
large  door  were  found  ninety-three  coins  of  bronze.  These  were 
the  gifts  of  public  charity.  Here  too  were  discovered  large  win- 
dow-panes of  glass.  This  circumstance  will  not  cease  to  excite 
the  surprise  and  even  the  incredulity  of  many  antiquarians. — 
Translated  from  Bonucci. 

14  Temple  of  Isis. — This  divinity  was  most  venerated  because 
least  known.  Protectress  of  the  port  and  of  the  commerce  of 
Pompeii,  she  was  called  Pelagic.  At  the  entrance  of  the  tem- 
ple was  found  the  little  box  for  public  charity;  and  near  it 
two  elegant  basins  for  lustral  water.  But  who  was  the  deity 
painted  in  the  depth  of  that  niche  ?  It  was  Silence  (Harpocrates). 
the  son  of  Isis,  who  with  his  raised  ringer  commands  silence,  as 
he  points  to  his  mother  in  the  depth  of  the  sacrarium. 

On  the  large  altar  sacrifices  were  offered  ;  on  the  other,  which 
is  vacant,  were  placed  the  ashes  of  the  victims. 

There  is  here  a  subterranean  chamber  with  a  bath.  One  or  two 
persons  could  go  there  together.  There  the  initiated  were  purified. 
Its  little  door  is  adorned  with  a  frontispiece,  and  surrounded  by 
walls  elegantly  covered  with  bas-reliefs  in  stucco.  They  repre- 
sent the  initiated  at  prayer,  Venus  with  Mars,  and  Mercury  who 
embraces  a  nymph  lightly  clad  and  crowned  with  flowers  ; — 
Cupids,  dolphins,  and  Genii  seem  to  surround  them,  bearing  the 
sacred  caskets. 

The  sacrarium  with  its  little  vestibule,  formed  by  six  columns 
of  the  Corinthian  order,  rises  from  the  centre  of  the  uncovered  Atri- 
um. Let  us  ascend  these  stairs.  On  this  sub-base  was  the 
statue  of  the  goddess,  here  the  Hierophant  appeared  clad  in  his 


NOTES.  197 

mysterious  robes  in  the  midst  of  the  noise  of  sistrums,  tympanums, 
and  hymns.* 

On  each  side  of  the  staircase  is  a  small  pedestal  to  which  was 
found  attached  a  flat  calcareous  stone  with  hieroglyphics  upon  it. 
On  each  side  of  the  sacrarium  are  other  altars  and  other  niches 
behind ;  there  was  also  in  a  little  niche,  a  statue  of  Bacchus. 
Porticoes  and  altars  surround  the  whole  enclosure  of  the  temple. 
Their  columns  offer  a  confused  mixture  of  three  orders  of  archi- 
tecture. In  an  angle  on  the  right  rose  the  little  statue  of  Isis  that 
Cecilius  Phoebus  dedicated  to  her ;  and  that  of  Venus,  the  neck, 
arms,  and  lower  part  which  were  gilt. 

From  thence  we  pass  into  the  eating-room,  adorned  with  paint- 
ings and  a  mosaic  pavement.  On  this  pavement  is  read, 

N.  POPIDI  CEL.SINI. 
N.  POPIDI   AMPLIATI. 

CORNELIA  CELSA. 

These  were  votaries  of  Isis  and  adepts  in  her  mysteries.  The 
paintings  represented  the  apotheosis  of  lo  (the  Egyptian  Isis)  and 
the  figures  of  different  animals  who  were  there  held  in  veneration. 
There  were  seen  two  gigantic  Hermes  with  beard  and  horns ; 
between  them  were  barks,  of  which  one,  probably  that  of  Horus 
or  the  Sun,  contained  a  casket  with  a  bird,  and  the  other  was 
steered  by  a  man  ;  two  serpents  round  two  sticks  surmounted  by 
a  garland  of  flowers,  and  below,  a  lioness ;  a  figure  seated  in  a 
.chair  and  closely  veiled,  and  a  serpent ;  a  figure  of  Isis  with  a 
robe  and  a  covering  on  the  head,  in  her  left  hand  a  sceptre,  at  her 
arm  is  suspended  a  bucket ;  beneath  her  feet  is  a  skull,  and  at  her 
•ide  serpents,  one  of  which  is  erect,  and  the  other  twined  about 
a  tree  laden  with  fruit.  All  these  figures  have  on  their  heads 
the  lotus  flower,  and  alluded  to  the  diverse  operations  of  the  sun 

*  This  is  probably  a  mere  inference  of  Bonucei,  drawn  from  the  fact,  that 
beneath  the  altar  is  a  little  chamber  in  the  sub-base  mentioned.  A  small  and 
secret  flight  of  steps  conducted  to  it ;  and  thero,  according  to  the  more  general 
and  probable  idea,  the  priests  concealed  themselves,  when  they  delivered  thefr 
oracles  in  the  name  of  the  goddess.  Other  tricks  and  impositions  were  doubt- 
less practised  upon  the  people  by  means  of  this  secret  avenue  to  the  statue — 
a  disposition  to  the  practise  of  which  does  not  seem  to  be  altogether  lost  by  the 
modern  priesthood  of  Italy.  Christian  statues  can  still  groan  and  weep,  and 
Chrittian  paintings  wink  and  blush,  as  well  as  any  Pagan  of  them  all. — Ed, 

17* 


198  NOTES. 

and  of  nature.     The  serpent  urceus  or  the  aspic,  was  the  symbol 
of  life  and  of  death. 

In  this  chamber  was  found  the  skeleton  of  a  priest  of  the  tem- 
ple, who  seems  to  have  perished  at  his  meals.  Egg-shells  and 
chickens'  bones  lay  before  him,  with  the  vessels  that  he  had  used 
at  his  meal. 

In  the  next  chamber  were  found  a  great  number  of  the  symbols 
of  the  worship  of  Isis,  and  a  little  Egyptian  idol  in  a  niche.  This 
was  a  wardrobe  of  the  temple  ;  it  had  still  two  chairs  and  other 
furniture.  We  should  wander  too  far  from  the  subject;  were  we 
to  relate  all  the  trials,  the  ceremonies,  and  the  prayers  which 
entered  into  the  mysteries  of  Isis,  which  were  transplanted  into 
Greece  under  the  name  of  Eleusinian.  No  authors,  ancient  or 
modern,  have  been  able  to  penetrate  the  secret.  Apuleius  speaks 
of  them  in  an  enigmatical  manner. 

"  I  approached,"  he  says,  "  the  confines  of  death.  After  hav- 
ing trodden  under  foot  the  threshold  of  Proserpine,  I  returned 
through  all  the  elements.  At  midnight  (he  sun  seemed  to  shine 
with  a  dazzling  light.  1  have  appeared  before  the  celestial  and 
infernal  deities,  and  have  worshipped  them  very  near." 

Many  believe  that  the  Isiac  mysteries  taught  in  disguise  the 
doctrine  of  a  future  life.  When  Apuleius  says,  "  that  he  arrived 
at  the  confines  of  death,  and  trod  under  foot  the  threshold  of  Pro- 
serpine," is  it  not  a  sufficiently  clear  allegory  of  the  fears  from 
which  he  imagined  himself  delivered  by  his  initiation  ?  For  the 
rest,  every  difficulty  disappears  with  these  promises  made  to  him 
by  Isis. 

"  Thou  shalt  live  happy  ;  thou  shall  be  full  of  glory  under  my 
protection.  When,  having  reached  the  limits  of  thy  life,  thou 
shalt  descend  into  the  place  of  the  departed,  thou  shalt  inhabit 
the  Ely  sian  fields  ...If,by  thy  zeal  for  my  worship,  and  by  the 
practice  of  continence  and  of  the  privations  which  shall  be  im- 
posed upon  thee,  thou  shalt  merit  my  favors,  thou  shalt  find  that 
it  is  in  my  power  to  prolong  thy  days  beyond  the  time  that  des- 
tiny has  prescribed  to  thee." 

To  the  hope  of  enjoying  an  assured  felicity  after  death,  was 
joined  that  of  a  long  and  happy  life,-  a  hope  respecting  which  it  is 
never  difficult  to  deceive  men,  because  their  happiness  consists  in 
their  yielding  to  the  force  of  this  illusion. 


NOTES.  199 

It  appears  that  M.  de  Hammer  has  wrested  this  secret  from 
time,  and  that  he  is  the  first  who  has  thrown  a  ray  of  light  upon 
the  mysterious  sanctuary  of  Isis.  On  the  authority  of  Clemens 
Alexandrinus,  he  mentions  three  kinds  of  Isiac  mysteries,  viz.  the 
purification  at  the  entrance  of  the  tomb ;  the  lesser  mysteries 
upon  judgment  and  death,  and  the  doctrine  of  a  future  life ;  and 
finally,  the  passage  to  the  greatest  mysteries,  by  the  contemplation 
of  the  eternal  light,  the  source  of  existence  and  of  the  universe. 
For  the  initiated,  the  minor  trials  were  four,  the  major  three. 

The  chamber  of  the  victims  and  the  apartments  of  the  priests 
are  on  the  left  of  the  temple  that  we  have  just  described.  Here 
and  there  were  found  about  the  kitchen,  bones  of  ham,  offals  of 
fish,  and  earthen  table-utensils.  The  Hierophant  had  collected 
the  treasures  of  the  goddess  and  fled ;  but  death  surprised  him  at 
the  entrance  of  the  great  square  of  the  theatre.  Under  his  skele- 
ton were  found  three  hundred  and  sixty  coins  of  silver,  nine  of 
pure  gold,  and  forty-two  of  bronze  ;  little  silver  vases,  very  sin- 
gular Isiac  figures,  spoon?,  goblets,  clasps,  little  cups,  all  of 
silver,  a  fine  cameo  and  ear-rings. — Translated  from  Bonucci. 

Into  the  above  account,  our  author  seems  to  have  thrown  some- 
thing of  the  mystery  of  the  divinity  whose  temple  he  was  describ- 
ing. I  will  therefore  subjoin  the  following  brief  account.  "  The 
temple  was  eighty-four  feet  long  by  seventy-four  broad.  It  is 
surrounded  by  a  portico  sustained  on  each  side  by  eight  columns 
of  the  Doric  order,  and  six  in  front.  All  this  building  is  composed 
of  brick,  covered  with  a  very  hard  kind  of  stucco,  and  was  of 
beautiful  architecture. 

"  In  the  depth  of  the  temple  rose  the  sanctuary,  insulated,  and 
ascended  by  seven  steps.  This  sanctuary  itself  formed  a  little 
square  temple.  It  is  adorned  with  stucco  on  the  sides,  with  two 
niches  in  front  and  one  at  the  opposite  part.  The  facade  is  ter- 
minated by  two  famous  Isiac  tables,  now  in  the  museum  at 
Naples. 

"  A  small  but  elegant  vestibule,  supported  by  six  columns  and 
adorned  with  beautiful  mosaic,  conducted  to  the  altar,  upon 
which  were  found  fragments  of  the  statue  of  Isis.  Beneath  the 
altar  is  a  little  chamber,  where,  as  it  is  thought,  the  priests  hid 
themselves  when  they  uttered  the  responses  of  the  oracle.  The 
hack  part  of  the  temple  still  presents  the  little  secret  staircase 


200  NOTES. 

leading  to  the  chamber.  On  each  side  of  the  temple  is  an  altar, 
the  one  on  the  left  for  burning  the  victims,  that  on  the  right  as  a 
deposite  for  the  sacred  ashes  which  were  found  there  in  great 
quantity." —  Fast. 

15  This  extreme  number  of  shops  to  be  let  by  a  single  person  in 
the  little  city  of  Pompeii  has  led  to  various  conjectures.  Some 
suppose  it  to  be  a  hoax  upon  this  Julia  Felix,  the  lessee,  by  some 
wag  of  Pompeii.  Others  suppose  these  to  be  mere  stalls  or  single 
rooms,  or  a  mixture  of  both.  Others  again  consider  her  to  have 
been  a  sort  of  female  broker,  who  let  the  tenements  of  others. 
Whatever  may  have  been  the  fact,  the  advertisement  was  found 
on  a  wall.  It  is  as  follows  : 

IN  PRJEDIIS  JVI.IJE  SP.  F.  FELICIS 
LOCANTUR  BALNEUM,  VENERIUM  ET 

NONGENTUM  TABERN.S:  PERGUUE 

COENACULA  EX  IDIBUS  AUG.  PRIMIS  IN 

IDUS  AUG.  SEXTAS  ANNOS  CONTINUOS 

QUINQUE   S.  Q.  D.  L.  E.  N.  C. 

The  second  supposition  seems  to  be  hardly  admissible,  when 
we  consider  the  terms  of  the  advertisement ;  and  on  the  other 
hand,  it  is  hardly  probable  that  she  would  possess  so  many  build- 
ings as  her  own  property.  Truth  probably  lies  in  the  first  or  last 
supposition. 

18  It  is  interesting  after  the  lapse  of  so  long  a  period  of  time  to 
see  the  inscriptions  scribbled  about  the  streets  by  boys  and  idlers, 
which  show  how  little  the  nature  of  either  has  been  changed. 
The  following  are  selected  from  many  on  the  walls  of  the  Basilica, 
of  every  kind  and  character.  The  first  one,  particularly,  is  very 
characteristic  of  all  idlers  in  all  ages.  The  orthography  is  here 
preserved. 

C.  PUMIDITTS  DlPILUS  HEIC  FUIT  AD  NONAS  OcTOBREI8. 

M.  LEPID.  Q.  CATUL.  Cos. 

i.  e.  seventy-seven  years  before  the  time  of  our  Saviour,  the 
epoch  of  the  death  of  Sylla.  Seldom  does  the  aspirant  after  im- 
mortality by  such  means,  so  fully  obtain  his  object. 

NON  EST  EX  ALSO  JuDEX,  PATRE  -SGYPTIO. 

DAMAS,  AUDI. 
StTAVIS  VINARIA  SITIT ;  ROGO  VOS  VALDE  SITIT. 


NOTES.  201 

LUCRIO  ET  SALUS  me  FUERUNT. 

OPFI  EMBOLIARI,  FUR,  FURUNCULE. 

Under  several  obscene  inscriptions  some  one  has  written, 

JOUS  MULTUM  MITTIT  PHIL.OCRATIS, 

i.  e.  against  such  indecencies.  It  was  a  common  custom  to  write 
with  colors,  on  the  side  of  shops  or  houses,  the  names  of  the  ven- 
der -and  of  the  Patron,  who  was  commonly  one  of  the  chief 
magistrates,  a  Duumvir,  or  an  ^Edile,  whose  protection  was 
implored.  The  following  is  one  of  them  : 

POSTUMIUM  PROBUM  Mu.  PHOTINUS  ROG. 

FER  TUNNUM. 

Other  public  inscriptions  contain  the  recommendations  of  them- 
selves by  the  colleges  or  the  artisans  to  the  protection  of  the  mag- 
istrates in  office. 

MARCEL.LINUM  ^EDILEM  LIGIVARJ  ET  FLOSTARJ  ROGANT  trr 
FAVEAT. 

M.  CERRINIUM  JEn.  SALINIENSES  ROG. 

A.  VETTIUM  JEo.  SACCARJ.  ROG. 
C.  CUSPIUM  PAIYSAM  JEo.  AURIFICES  UNIVERSI  ROG.. 

PILICREPI  FACITE. 

FORNACATOR  SECUNDO  ^ED. 

PAQTJIO  DUUMV.  I.  D.  VENEREI. 

In  the  secret  street  of  the  little  theatre  some  soldiers  had  writ- 
ten one  of  their  adventures  with  a  certain  Tyche  ;  and  added, 
"in  the  consulate  of  M.  Messala  and  of  L.  Lentulus;"  i.  e. 
three  years  B.  C. 

All  these  are  written  in  red  or  black  letters,  with  a  brush.  They 
were  sometimes  covered  with  white  paint,  and  other  inscriptions 
placed  over  them. — Translated  from  Sonucci. 

17  The  nearest  relation  closed  the  eyes  and  mouth  of  the  de- 
ceased, probably  to  make  them  appear  less  ghastly.  The  eyes 
were  afterwards  opened  on  the  funeral  pile.  When  the  eyes  were 
Closed,  they  called  upon  the  deceased  by  name  several  times,  at 


202  NOTES. 

intervals,  repeating  Ave  or  Vale  ;  whence  "  corpora  nondum  con- 
clamata,"  "just  expiring";  and  those  who  had  given  up  their 
friends  for  lost,  or  supposed  them  dead  were  said,  "  eos  concla- 
mavisse."  So  when  a  thing  was  quite  desperate,  conclamatum 
est. — Adam's  Roman  Antiquities. 

is  te  They,"  the  emperors,  "  used  a  particular  badge  of  having  fire 
carried  before  them.  Marcus  Antoninus  calls  it  a  lamp,  probably 
borrowed  from  the  Persians.  Something  similar  seems  to  have 
been  used  by  the  magistrates  of  the  municipal  towns;  a  pan  of 
burning  coals,  or  a  portable  hearth,  in  which  incense  was  burnt ;. 
a  perfumed  stove." — Ibid. 

19  On  public  occasions,  the  emperor  wore  a  crown  and  a  trium- 
phal robe. —  Tacit.  Ann. 

20  That  I  may  not  seem  to  have  misrepresented  the  morals  of 
the  times  or  of  the  votaries  of  Isis,  I  must  be  allowed  here  a  few 
remarks. 

"  The  worship  of  Isis  was  universal  in  Egypt.  The  priests  were 
obliged  to  observe  perpetual  chastity.  Their  heads  were  closely 
shaved,  and  they  always  walked  barefooted,  and  clothed  them- 
selves in  linen  garments.  They  never  ate  onions.  They  ab- 
stained from  salt  with  their  meat,  and  were  forbidden  the  flesh  of 
sheep  and  of  hogs.  During  the  night,  they  were  employed  in  per- 
petual devotion  near  the  statue  of  the  goddess." — Encyclopaedia. 

To  judge  from  the  above,  it  would  seem  that  the  rales  here 
required  were  directly  at  variance  with  the  character  of  Marcus. 
But  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  worship  of  Isis  by  the  Egyp- 
tians and  by  the  luxurious  Romans,  was  a  very  different  thing. 
Their  luxury  and  refinement  incorporated  itself  into  the  worship 
of  the  myriads  of  strange  gods  they  introduced  into  Rome  from 
the  barbarous  nations  whom  they  conquered. 

It  may  be  assumed  safely  of  any  large  body  of  men,  that  restric-  • 
tions  from  marriage  always  produce  licentiousness  ;  and  the  priests 
of  Isis,  neither  in  dress,  tonsure,  rules,  nor  religion,  seem  to  have 
differed  (except  in  name)  from  many  of  the  present  priests  of  Christ 
on  the  same  spot.  Those  travellers  who  have  visited  the  private 
room  at  the  Museo  Borbonico  will  find  enough  of  the  satire  of 
that  day  against  the  priests  of  Isis,  on  the  sarcophagus  in  'that 
room,  to  warrant  all  that  is  intimated  in  the  conversation  alluded 
to.  The  strangely  obscene  presents  brought  to  the  temple  ;  when, 


NOTES.  203 

in  consequence  of  the  supposed  influence  of  the  priests,  the  donors 
had  become  mothers  ;  the  indecent  paintings  in  the  bed-rooms  of 
the  young  girls,  the  charm  contra  sterilitatem  which  there  seems 
little  reason  to  doubt  were  worn  by  the  ladies  about  the  neck,  as 
in  modern  times  a  cross  or  an  eye-glass  ;  the  symbol  over  the  oven, 
&c.,  all  serve  to  show  how  deep  was  the  moral  degradation  from 
which  Christianity  rescued  mankind. 

Speaking  of  the  house  of  Julia  Felix,  Bonucci  remarks,  "  Parmi 
ces  chambres  on  decouvrit  un  Sacrarium,  qui  d'apres  les  peintures 
d'  Isis,  d'  Osiris,  d'  Igiea,  d'Anubis,  et  de  differentes  petites  idoles  et 
talismans  qu'on  y  trouva,  parmi  lesquelles  un  Priape  et  un  Harpo- 
crate,  tous  deux  le  doigt  sur  les  levres,  on  conjectura  que  la 
proprietaire  etoit  une  initee  aux  mysteres  d'Isis  et  devouee  a  son 
culte  pour  obtenir  des  enfans.  II  y  avoit  dans  le  centre  un  tre- 
pied  de  bronze,  soutenu  par  trois  Satyres  obscenes,  qui  tendent 
la  main  a  la  supph'ante,  et  semblent  lui  promettre  que  ses  vceux 
seront  exauces."  The  more  general  impression  seems  to  be  how- 
ever, that  she  exerqoit  chezelle  le  LENOCINITJM  which  was  forbid; 
den  to  those  who  should  hire  any  of  the  nine  hundred  shops  she 
advertised  ;  very  possibly  with  the  intention  of  monopolizing  the 
business  herself.  See  note  15. 

In  the  street  of  tombs  is  a  little  sepulchral  inclosure  where  was 
found  a  marble  head,  a  peine  ebauchee,  with  the  hair  knotted 
behind  the  neck.  It  bore  this  inscription  : 

JUNONI 

TYCHES  JULIJE 
VENER. 


The  protecting  divinities  (answering  to  the  modern  patron 
saints)  of  women  were  called  Junes,  of  men,  Genii.  "  Singulis 
enim  et  Genium  et  Junonem  dederunt."  —  Seneca. 

Thus  Tyche  recommends  herself  to  her  tutelar  divinity  ;  but 
her  quality  of  Venerea  "  ne  seroit  pas  des  plus  decentes  de  nos 
jours."  —  Precis  Historique. 

21  When  persons  were  at  the'  point  of  death,  their  nearest  rela- 
tion present  endeavoured  to  catch  their  last  breath  with  their 
mouth  ;  for  they  believed  the  soul  then  went  out  at  the  mouth.  — 
Roman  Antiquities. 

22  This  little  vial,  called  a  lachrymatory,  has  lately  been  assert- 


204  NOTES. 

ed  not  to  contain  the  tears,  but  some  rich  odor.  I  have  preferred 
adopting  the  more  generally  received  opinion  of  its  use.  The 
sepulchral  chamber  of  Saturninus  is  seen  in  turning  to  the  right 
near  the  house  of  Diomedes,  where  was  found  a  small  door  which 
opened  into  an  enclosure  of  reticulated  wall.  There  is  to  be  seen 
a  triclinium.  It  is  formed  by  three  beds  made  of  stone,  upon 
which  when  carpets  and  cushions  were  placed,  the  guests  were 
very  comfortable. 

Here  was  celebrated  the  funeral  banquet  (silicernium).  This 
custom  at  first  consisted  only  in  sitting  round  the  tombs  and  eat- 
ing the  remains  of  the  victims  after  the  sacrifices  were  terminated. 
M.  Fauvel,  French  consul  at  Athens,  found  about  a  sepulchre 
that  he  believed  to  be  that  of  Antiope,  the  Amazon,  near  the 
Piraeus,  the  bones  of  goats  and  rams,  and  horns  of  oxen  partly 
burnt,  bones  of  chickens,  and  other  remains  of  the  funeral  feast. 

But  the  fervent  piety  of  the  ancients,  and  the  poetical  imagina- 
tion of  a  mythological  religion,  soon  changed  the  simplicity  of 
these  feasts.  They  believed  that  they  should  be  prepared  for  the 
dead  ;  and  in  effect  they  spread  magnificent  tables,  leaving  in  the 
middle  of  the  guests  a  place  for  the  dead.  In  this  triclinium  is  a 
small  column  on  which  was  placed,  before  the  table,  the  urn  of  the 
defunct,  crowned  with  roses.  Flowers  were  scattered  in  profu- 
sion ;  libations  were  offered ;  and  it  not  unfrequently  happened 
that,  in  often  replenishing  the  goblets  with  the  wine  of  Vesuvius,* 
the  guests  forgot  that  they  were  met  to  weep. — Translated  from 
Bonucci. 

33  At  the  betrothing  of  the  parties,  there  was  commonly  a  feast ; 
and  the  man  gave  the  woman  a  ring  by  way  of  pledge,  which  she 
put  on  her  left  hand,  on  the  finger  next  the  least ;  because  it  was 
believed  that  a  nerve  reached  thence  to  the  heart. — Macrob. 

It  is  not  a  little  curious  thus  to  trace  customs  and  expressions  still 
in  use,  to  their  origin,  which  to  the  great  mass  of  men  is  perfectly 
unknown.  "  He  received  his  dying  breath,"  for  "  he  was  present 
at  his  death  bed."  "  He  will  not  go  out  again  till  he  goes  feet 
foremost,"  to  signify  that  "  he  will  never  go  out  again  alive,"  are 
among  the  many  examples  that  may  be  found  of  this  fact. 

24  Hence,  as  is  supposed,  the  Latin  name  for  wife,  uxor  quasi 
unxor. 

*  This  is  the  wine  now  known  by  the  name  of  Lachrymae  Christ!.— Ed. 


NOTES.  205 

85  This  house  is  known  by  the  name  of  the  House  of  the  Mo- 
saic Fountain.  At  its  side  stands  a  twin  sister,  which  is  known 
by  the  same  name  as  the  first.  This  second  house  has  a  Tuscan 
court,  with  two  small  rooms  at  the  side  of  the  door  for  servants. 
In  the  study  are  some  beautiful  decorations ;  little  Cupids  who 
milk  a  she-goat,  and  who  fight  with  ferocious  beasts  ;  and  stags 
who  draw  tranquilly  a  little  car.  In  the  room  at  its  side  are 
painted  actors  and  a  comic  representation. 

In  front,  in  the  garden,  columns  support  a  portico  covered 
with  verdure.  In  the  middle  is  a  very  singular  fountain,  covered 
with  mosaics  of  marbles  and  shells,  in  the  form  of  a  niche  termi- 
nated by  a  frontispiece.  The  water  fell  by  three  steps  into  a 
marble  bason,  in  the  form  of  an  oblong  square,  where  the  bath 
might  be  taken.  The  half  of  a  small  column  sent  forth  a  jet  d'eau  ; 
or  perhaps  the  same  little  hole  that  it  had  in  the  centre,  served  at 
the  same  time  to  emit  the  water  and  to  prevent  its  overflowing 
the  basin.  Two  masks  of  Parian  marble  supported  lamps ;  and 
shed  from  their  eyes  and  mouth  a  light  whose  effect  was  very 
curious. —  Translated  from  Bonucci. 

26  House  of  the  Vestals. — The  house  known  by  this  name,  has 
a  vestibule,  divided  into  three  chambers,  decorated  with  four 
demi-columns,  which  almost  give  this  house  the  form  of  a  temple. 
It  is  adorned"  with  superb  mosaics,  and  with  beautiful  paintings. 
There  may  be  seen  a  Faun  who  raises  the  garment  of  a  sleeping 
Bacchante,  a  favorite  subject  with  the  Pompeian  painters. 

We  entered  the  Atrium.*  It  formed  the  public  part  of  an- 
cient habitations.  It  has  in  the  centre  a  court  (caveedium), 
which,  although  it  had  been  covered,  had  an  opening  in  the  mid- 
dle of  its  roof  (complumum),  which  served  for  the  admission  of 
light ;  and  through  which  the  rain-water  fell  into  a  square  basin 
(implumum),  which  conducted  it  to  cisterns  made  with  particular 
care.  A  triclinium  in  a  saloon  formerly  paved  with  rich  mosaics  of 

*  The  ancients  used  five  kinds  of  Atrium  or  court.  1.  The  Tuscanicum, 
whose  roof  was  formed  by  four  beams,  which  crossed  each  other  at  right 
angles,  having  an  opening  in  the  middle.  2.  The  Tetrastyle,  whose  vault 
rested  on  four  columns  at  the  point  where  the  rafters  met.  3.  The  Corinthian, 
surrounded  by  a  peristyle.  4.  The  Testudinatum,  that  is  to  say,  covered. 
And  5.  the  Displuviatum,  which  shed  its  waters  into  the  street. 
18 


206  NOTES. 

glass,  is  placed  at  the  side  of  the  Atrium.  There  is  still  to  be  seen 
the  figure  of  a  fish,  a  symbol  of  the  object  to  which  it  was  destined. 
The  audience-chamber  is  opposite,  where  the  Pompeian,  surround- 
ed by  the  images  of  his  ancestors,  received  his  clients,  friends,  and 
dependants. 

Immediately  after,  we  arrived  at  the  public  apartment,  where 
were  the  rooms  for  the  men.  This  house  seems  to  have  been 
originally  two  separate  houses,  afterward,  probably,  bought  by 
some  rich  man  and  thrown  into  one.  After  traversing  a  little  court, 
around  which  are  the  sleeping-chambers,  and  that  destined  to 
business,  we  hastened  to  render  our  visit  to  the  Penates.  We 
entered  the  pantry,  and  rendered  back  to  the  proprietors  the  greet- 
ing *  that  from  the  threshold  of  this  mansion  they  still  direct  to 
strangers.  We  next  passed  through  the  kitchen  and  its  depen- 
dencies. The  corn-mills  seemed  waiting  for  the  accustomed 
hands  to  grind  with  them,  after  so  many  years  of  repose.  Oil, 
standing  in  glass  vessels,  chestnuts,  dates,  raisins,  and  figs  in  the 
next  chamber  announce  the  provision  for  the  approaching  winter ; 
and  large  amphorae  of  wine  recall  to  us  the  consulate  of  Caesar  and 
of  Cicero. 

We  entered  the  private  apartment.  Magnificent  porticoes  are 
to  be  seen  around  it.  Numerous  beautiful  columns  covered  with 
stucco  and  with  very  fresh  colors,  surrounded  an  agreeable  garden, 
a  pond,  and  a  bath.  Elegant  paintings,  delicate  ornaments,  stags, 
sphinxes,  wild  and  fanciful  flowers,  every  where  cover  the  walls. 
The  cabinets  of  the  young  girls  and  their  toilet,  with  appropriate 
paintings,  are  disposed  along  the  sides.  In  this  last  were  found  a 
great  quantity  of  female  ornaments,  and  the  skeleton  of  a  little  dog. 

At  the  extremity  is  seen  a  semicircular  room  adorned  with 
niches,  and  formerly  with  statues,  mosaics,  and  marbles.  An 
altar,  on  which  the  sacred  fire  burned  perpetually  rose  in  the  cen- 
tre. This  is  the  sacrarium.  In  this  secret  and  sacred  place,  the 
most  solemn  and  memorable  days  of  the  family  were  spent  in 
rejoicings.  On  birth-days,  sacrifices  were  offered  to  the  Genius 
or  Juno,  the  protector  of  the  new  born  child.  Offerings  of  crowns 

*  The  word  Salve  is  printed  in  mosaic  on  the  threshold  of  this  house,  so  that 
the  visitor  is  welcomed  as  he  crosses  it. — Ed. 


NOTEsf  207 


made  of  poppies,,  whose  seeds  are  innumerable,  were  made  to 
Fecundity,  and  the  slave  embraced  there,  with  trembling,  the  knees 
even  of  the  Furies.  The  Abbe  Romanelli  conjectures  that  this  is 
the  house  that  Claudius,  afterwards  emperor,  occupied  with  his 
son  Drusus,  when  they  retired  to  this  city  to  avoid  the  hatred  of 
Tiberius. —  Translated  from  Bonucci. 

Hence  it  is  easy  to  infer  that  it  is,  to  say  the  least,  very  doubt- 
ful if  this  were  any  thing  more  than  a.  private  house  It  may 
perhaps  be  sufficient  authority  for  a  tale,  but  for  nothing  else. 

87  This  house,  called  the  House  of  the  Dramatic  Poet,  in 
which  we  have  placed  our  good  friend  Cennius,  1  shall  proceed  to 
describe  in  the  words  of  Bonucci,  omitting  only  those  parts  which 
have  already  been  described  in  the  tale. 

"  On  the  threshold  is  seen  in  elegant  mosaic,  a  large  dog,  chain- 
ed, and  seeming  ready  to  spring  upon  those  who  enter,  and  below 
are  these  facetious  words  in  mosaic,  Cave  Canem." 

After  speaking  of  the  Venus,  Thetis,  &.c.  he  goes  on  to  remark, 
"  All  these  figures  are  probably  portraits,  as  it  was  the  custom  to 
( represent  them  around  the  Atrium.  The  rings  upon  the  fingers 
show  the  family  to  have  been  noble.  But  who  was  the  young 
girl  or  rather  goddess,  who  lent  her  smile  and  her  charms  to  this 
Thetis,  to  this  Briseis,  &c. 

On  the  same  side  [of  the  Atrium]  are  seen  various  small  sleep- 
ing-chambers. In  one  are  paintings  of  the  combats  of  the  Ama- 
zons, similar  to  the  bas  reliefs  lately  discovered  at  Figalie.  They 
are  on  cars,  a  singular  thing  !  The  warriors  are  on  foot.  The  vic- 
tory seems  to  declare  itself  for  the  latter.  Below  this  ornament  is 
seen  a  young  Nereid,  naked,  sitting  on  a  sea-bull,  that  she  seems 
to  caress.  One  perhaps  was  the  Taureau  dionysiaque  and  the 
other  a  Bacchante.  In  front  is  an  obscene  painting.  The  Pom- 
peians  were  accustomed  to  place  these  representations  in  the  most 
exposed  places,  which  shows  how  different  were  their  morals  from 
ours.  Piopertius  deplores  this  fatal  usage,  and  invokes  the  wrath 
of  Heaven  on  the  first  who  shall  dare  expose  to  the  ingenuous 
regards  of  a  young  girl  these  dangerous  monuments  of  shame. 

Opposite  the  court  is  the  study ;  in  a  very  ordinary  painting  is 
seen  a  poet  seated  on  a  stool,  who,  holding  a  paper  in  his  hand, 
declaims  his  verses  before  two  illustrious  personages  seated  at  the 


208  NOTES. 

extremity  of  the  chamber.     At  a  little  distance  Apollo  and  a  Muse 
protect  our  man  of  letters. 

If  this  curious  painting  alludes  to  a  historic  fact,  the  poet  who 
seems  to  be  of  an  inferior  condition  was  perhaps  Plautus,  or  Ter- 
ence, or  some  one  of  those  unfortunate  Athenians,  who,  prisoners 
at  Syracuse,  sought  to  soften  their  fate  and  the  ferocity  of  their 
masters  by  passionate  verses;  thus  weighing  the  glory  of  Eurip- 
ides against  the  reverses  of  Nicias. 

Every  part  of  this  chamber  is  embellished  and  animated  by  a 
crowd  of  Genii,  Victories,  and  Arabesques.  The  coloring,  fresh- 
ness, and  movement  of  these  little  figures  are  admirable.  The 
mosaic  pavements  are  also  of  a  perfect  style.  The  middle  one 
indicates  the  concert  of  a  dramatic  representation.  In  the  depth 
of  the  theatre  are  seen  the  columns  which  ornament  the  scene. 
A  flute-player  seems  by  his  modulations  to  accompany  a  Chora- 
gus  who  is  seated  and  is  declaiming.  The  choir  has  received 
from  him  the  masks,  some  of  which  still  rest  upon  the  knees  of 
the  players.  Another  seems  to  dress  himself  in  a  great  haste,  and 
one  of  his  companions  assists  him.  Joy  and  enthusiasm  are  paint- 
ed in  the  gestures  of  the  first.  There  are  in  our  day  but  very  few 
mosaics  of  antiquity  which  can  be  compared  to  this  fine  picture 
composed  of  seven  figures.  Scenic  masks  are  painted  in  the 
contiguous  apartments. 

We  next  come  to  a  Doric  peristyle  which  has  capitals  of  a  form 
somewhat  new  and  elegant.  It  surrounded  a  small  garden  enclos- 
ed with  iron  palisades.  Opposite  is  the  domestic  altar,  with  a  - 
little  niche  adorned  with  a  beautiful  frontispiece. 

Here  was  discovered  the  little  statue  of  a  Faun,  with  flowers 
and  fruits  in  her  bosom. 

On  the  left  is  a  sleeping-room,  where  is  a  painting  of  Ariadne 
abandoned  ;  besides  a  Narcissus  ;  and  a  Love,  fishing.  The  rogue 
has  already  caught  a  good  prize,  that  he  presents  to  his  mother. 
This  chamber  doubtless  belonged  to  some  lovely,  fascinating  lady, 
to  whom  it  was  desired  in  this  picture  to  address  a  flattering 
compliment. 

Near  by  is  a  small  chamber,  where  among  the  beautiful  land- 
scapes and  sea-views,  were  discovered  papyri,  painted  with  Greek 
letters.  This  was  certainly  the  library.  There  was  ordinarily  in 


NOTES.  209 

the  middle  of  the  libraries  a  closet,  where  the  books  were  ranged 
each  with  its  label.  Others  were  placed  upon  the  walls.  One 
walked  around  and  selected  the  author  desired.  In  the  preced- 
ing chamber  the  Pompeian  abandoned  himself  to  the  pleasures  of 
love ;  in  this  to  meditation  and  study.  The  passions  and  their 
excess  were  perhaps  less  formidable  among  the  ancients  than 
among  us.  The  study  consecrated  to  philosophy  and  moderation, 
was  if  1  may  so  speak,  the  sacrarium  of  the  profane  temple  of 
voluptuousness  and  of  beauty. 

Not  far  from  this  place,  we  admired  for  its  freshness  and  for  the 
composition,  a  beautiful  painting  which  represented  the  sacrifice 
of  Iphigenia. 

We  next  arrive  at  the  room  for  banquetting  and  dancing.  We 
see  represented  in  this  vast  room,  in  the  midst  of  the  most  various 
and  agreeable  decorations  of  architecture  and  of  flowers,  fruits  in 
glass  vases,  a  cock  who  holds  a  caduceus,  charming  dancing-girls, 
Leda  who  presents  to  her  astonished  spouse  the  three  twins  Cas- 
tor, Pollux,  and  Helen,  coming  out  of  the  egg ;  Theseus,  who 
having  arrived  on  the  shore  of  Naxos,  abandons  the  sleeping 
Ariadne ;  and  Love  who  complains  to  Venus  of  the  contempt  of 
Diana.  On  the  pavement  in  mosaic  we  see  fishes,  geese,  and 
ornaments  simple  but  full  of  elegance  and  taste. 

Next  comes  the  kitchen  with  its  hearth  similar  to  our  own,  and 
the  common  place. 

This  habitation  had  a  second  story,  very  noble  and  agreeable. 
There,  in  the  first  excavations,  were  found  broken  pieces  of 
pavement,  which  represented  in  mosaic  a  fine  head  of  Bacchus  ; 
and  moreover  a  treasure  of  female  ornaments.  Some  countryman 
who  had  come  hither  to  seek  for  objects,  had  not  been  so  fortu- 
nate as  to  find  them,  although  he  had  arrived  within  two  paces  of 
them ;  when,  from  spite  at  finding  nothing,  he  dispersed  the  bones 
of  the  skeletons  in  departing. 

In  the  angle  contiguous  to  this  house  in  the  Osque  language 
are  the  following  words  : 

sunirx.  n.  VN. 

Numeiii  poemata  accipies. 

Translated  from  JBonucci. 

19  As  there  is  no  temple  of  Vesta  yet  discovered  in  Pompeii,  I 
have  borrowed  that  at  Rome  for  the  occasion. 

18* 


210  NOTES. 

29  It  has  been  a  disputed  point  whether  the  statue  of  Vesta  was 
placed  over  her  altars.     Meantime,  in  the  unsettled  state  of  the 
matter,  I  have  felt  at  liberty  to  do  as  I  pleased  about  placing  her 
there. 

30  Tragic  Theatre. — Here  I  shall  merely  subjoin  what  I  have 
omitted  to  mention  in  the  text.     The  first  thing  that  strikes  the 
attention  is  the  following  inscription  : 

M.  M.  HOLCONI  RUFUS  ET  CELER 

CRYPTAM  TRIBUNAL  THEATRTJM  S.  P. 

AD  DECUS  COL.ONI.S:. 

Thjp  theatre  was  built  in  the  time  of  Augustus,  and  was  the 
work  and  done  at  the  expense  of  Rufus  and  Celer.  It  was  dedi- 
cated the  22d  year  of  the  Tribunate  of  that  Emperor. 

That  part  of  the  theatre  that  we  call  the  pit  was  called  the 
orchestra.  It  was  the  place  of  the  principal  magistrates.  Among 
the  Greeks,  dances  were  executed  on  a  floor  made  for  the  pur- 
pose. Thus  the  dancers  could  exhibit  the  lightness  and  grace 
of  their  movements  in  the  very  midst  of  the  spectators,  who 
loaded  them  with  praises. 

In  front  of  the  orchestra  is  the  proscenium  where  the  actors, 
the  dancers,  and  the  buffoons  played  their  parts.  It  was  five  feet 
from  the  ground.  The  siparium  or  curtain,  descended  from 
above  downwards,  and  contained  a  painting  of  the  subject  of  the 
spectacle  to  be  exhibited. 

Awnings  were  spread  upon  poles  projecting  from  the  top  of  the 
theatre,  to  shield  the  audience  from  the  excessive  heat  of  the  sun. 
On  this  account  too,  odoriferous  showers  of  saffron-water  were 
sprikled  upon  the  audience  from  ingenious  machines.  A  vast  reser- 
voir which  received  the  canal  of  the  Sarno  is  hard  by,  destined  to 
this  object. 

This  theatre,  like  all  the  more  elevated  monuments  of  Pompeii, 
is  ruined  and  deprived  of  its  marbles  at  the  upper  extremity,  which 
from  its  height  could  not  be  entirely  buried  by  the  eruption. 

Near  by  is  the  Odeum  or  theatre  for  music.  It  is  on  the  left  of 
the  theatre,  as  Vetruvius  directs.  "  Exeuntibus  e  theatro,  sinistra 
parte  Odeum."  It  is  distinguished  from  the  other  theatre  only  by 
its  smallness  and  preservation.  Here  were  exhibited  the  trials 
and  proofs  of  dramas,  and  the  poetical  contests,  for  which  tripods 


NOTES.  211 

were  offered  as  a  reward.  On  the  floor  is  seen  in  large  bronze 
letters  the  name  of  the  president  of  the  spectacles. 

M.  OCULATIUS  M.  F.  VERUS  II  VIR  PRO  LUDIS. 
Two  inscriptions  inform  us  that  the  Duumvirs  C.  Quinctius,  son 
of  Caius,  and  M.  Porcius  son  of  Marcus,  by  a  decree  of  the  Decu- 
rions,  borrowed  the  silver  for  building  the  covered  theatre,  and 
approved  it. 

C.  QUINCTIUS  C.  F.  VALG. 

M.  PORCIUS  M.  F. 
DUOVIR  DEC.  DECR. 
THEATRUM  TECTUM 

FAC.  LOCAR.    IlDEMQUE  PflOBAR. 

Mr.  Wilkins  thinks,  that  perhaps  it  was  not  entirely  covered ; 
but  he  does  not  remember  the  two  ancient  theatres  of  Naples,  and 
this  line  of  Statius  that  describes  them. 

Et  geminam  raolem  nudi,  tectique  theatri. 

Pillars  at  the  extremity  of  the  superior  wall  supported  its  roof; 
leaving  between  them  intervals  for  air  and  light.  This  edifice 
suffered  much  injury  by  the  earthquake  of  63,  and  it  was  repair- 
ing, when  buried  by  the  eruption  of  79. 

The  Quarters  of  the  Soldiers  immediately  follow.  To  have  an 
idea  of  them,  one  nxust  figure  to  himself  a  spacious  open  enclosure, 
with  a  vast  garden  in  the  middle,  surrounded  by  porticoes  and 
intercolumniations  on  the  four  sides,  and  closed  by  long  files  of 
chambers  on  the  ground  floor.  The  columns  are  Doric,  fluted  at 
the  upper  part,  small,  painted  red,  and  have  a  fine  effect. 

Here  are  seen  inscriptions  without  an  object,  and  very  bad  draw- 
ings of  ships,  soldiers,  &c.  done  doubtless  by  the  classiarii  (sol- 
diers of  marine)  who  were  quartered  there,  and  by  idle  persons 
who  lounged  gaping  about  there. — Translated  from  Bonucci. 

These  drawings  seem  most  of  them  to  have  been  done  with  the 
point  of  a  pin  or  knife,  or  some  such  instrument,  and  resemble  the 
first  efforts  at  drawing,  which  most  of  us  can  remember  to  have 
practised  in  younger  days,  upon  the  unfortunate  benches,  desks, 
&c.  when  we  too  yawned  over  uninteresting  tasks. 

Other  facts  relative  to  the  Quarters  of  the  Soldiers  have  been 
elsewhere  described. 


212  NOTES. 

31  To  the  door-keepers  was  given  in  a  ticket  of  bone,  on  which 
was  designated  the  cavea,  the  cuneus,  the  seat  or  bench,  the  place 
on  the  seat,  and  the  name  of  the  author  of  the  play.     Such  a 
ticket  cost  a  few  sous.     Some  have  been  found  in  Pompeii  indi- 
cating a  tragedy  of  ^Eschylus.    They  were  circular,  having  on  the 
reverse  side  a  drawing  of  a  theatre. — Starke. 

32  The  victim  was  led  to  the  altar  by  the  Popce,  with  their 
clothes  tucked  up,  and  naked  to  the  waist,  with  a  slack  rope,  that 
it  might  not  seem  to  be  brought  by  force,  which  was  reckoned  a 
bad  omen.     For  the  same  reason  it  was  allowed  to  stand  loose 
before  the  altar ;  and  it  was  a  very  bad  omen  if  it  fled  away. — 
Mam's  Roman  Antiquities. 

33  For  a  description  of  this  gallery,  see  note  2. 

34  As  I  assumed  a  Temple  of  Vesta,  so  it  became  necessary  to 
assume  a  Campus  Sceleratus.    The  one  would  not  be  likely  to 
exist  without  the  other. 

35  «  He»  Domitian,  "  wns  so  distrustful,  even  when  alone,  that 
round  the  terrace  where  he  usually  walked,  he  built  a  wall  of  shin- 
ing stone,  that  from  it  he  might  percieve,  as  in  a  mirror,  any  one 
who  approached  him  from  any  direction. — Suet,  in  Vita. 

36  Dioclesian  introduced  the  custom  of  kneeling  to   the  empe- 
rors.    Aurelius  Victor  says,  that  the  same  thing  was  done  to  Cali- 
gula and  Domitian. — Adam's  Roman  Antiquities. 

37  He  passed  the  greater  part  of  the  day  in  catching  flies  and 
killing  them  with  a  bodkin.     Hence  the  witty  reply  of  Vibius,  to 
a  person  who  inquired  of  him  who  was  with  the  emperor  ?  '  No 
one,  not  even  a  fly.'— Suet,  in  Vita. 

38  Catacombs  of  Naples. — These  are  subterranean  excavations 
pierced  in  the  hill  in  the  form  of  corridors,  with  other  smaller  ones 
at  the  side,  which  have  three  stages  or  stories.    The  walls  contain 
niches  of  different  sizes  to  the  number  of  six,  placed  over  each 
other.     It  is  asserted,  that  these  catacombs  extended  to  Pozzuoli 
on  one  side  and  to  Lautrec  on  the  other,  although  the  assertion 
seems  to  rest  on  conjecture  alone. 

As  to  the,  original  object  of  these  catacombs  some  suppose  that 
anciently  they  served  as  subterranean  communications  with  the 
city.  The  more  general  opinion  however  is,  that  they  were  form- 
ed by  the  removal  of  sand  and  stones  for  building ;  and  that  the 


NOTES.  213 

ancient  Christians  made  use  of  them  for  the  purpose  of  prayer,  and 
the  interment  ot  the  dead  in  the  time  of  the  persecution  of  the 
Christians ;  as  was  the  case  at  Rome  in  the  catacombs  of  St. 
Sebastian. 

It  is  very  interesting  to  observe  in  these  catacombs  the  church 
of  the  ancient  Christians,  which  is  ascended  by  a  few  steps. 
There  are  some  columns  hewn  in  the  tufo,  the  pulpit,  and  above 
ail,  the  sacristy,  in  which  were  several  inscriptions  on  marble, 
with  which  the  exterior  church  that  stands  over  the  catacombs  is 
now  paved. —  Vasi. 

In  the  last  plague  at  Naples,  a  vast  number  of  those  who  died 
of  that  disease  were  buried,  or  rather  laid,  here.  Consequently, 
skeletons  meet  you  at  every  turn  ;  now  lying  in  the  stone  niches 
above  mentioned,  which  are  not  unlike  the  berths  of  a  ship,  in 
social  amity  of  five  or  six  together,  sometimes  a  heap  of  heads 
piled  neatly  up  like  canon-balls  on  board  a  man-of-war,  and  pre- 
senting a  very  disgusting  appearance. 

These  catacombs  are  visited  by  torch-light,  and  are  well  worth 
a  visit  from  any  one  who  goes  to  that  city. 

39  ^ .     This  monogram  is  commonly  explained  to  be  XP^r«V, 
i.  e.  the  first  two  letters  of  the  name.*     This  is  believed  to  be  the 
unquestionable  indication  of  the  place  of  interment  of  the  early  mar- 
tyrs.    The  rock  from  which  these  catacombs  are  hewn,  is  often  of 
a  reddish  color,  which  the  conductor  always  shows  as  the  stain 
of  the  blood  of  these  martyrs.     Whether  they  are  really  so,  or 
only  the  natural  color  of  the  rock,  I  am  unable  to  say. 

I  cannot  recollect  having  been  shown  the  above  sign  in  the 
Neapolitan  catacombs,  in  which  I  have  placed  it  in  the  tale, 
though  it  seems  most  probable  that  it  may  be  found  there. 

40  Ships  contrived  for  lightness  and  expedition  had  but  one  rank 
of  oars  on  each  side,  or  at  most,  two.     They  were  of  different 
kinds,  and  called  by  various  names.     But  the  most  remarkable  of 
these  were  the  naves  Liburnce,  a  kind  of  light  galley  used  by  the 
Liburni,  a  people  of  Dalmatia  addicted  to  piracy.    To  ships  of  this 
kind,  Augustus  was  in  a  great  measure  indebted  for  his  victoiy 
over  Antony  at  Actium.     Hence,  after  that  time,  the  name  was 

*  Some  persons  have  supposed  these  two  letters  to  be  the  Roman  P,  and  the 
Greek  Ch  forming  ihe  initials  of  the  words  Pro  Christo.  Compared  with  the 
above  explanation  however,  it  is  obviously  strained, 


214  NOTES. 

given  to  all  light,  quick-sailing  vessels. — Adam's  Roman  Anti- 
quities. 

41  Ships  of  war  were  so  called  in  contradistinction  to  ships  of 
burden,  on  account  of  their  greater  length. — Ibid. 

48  The  Roman  women  used  a  broad  ribbon  round  the  breast, 
called  Strophium.— Ibid. 

43  The  Roman  fleet  under  Pliny,  at  the  time  of  the  eruption,  lay 
at  Misenum.     He  immediately  repaired  to    Retina  to   save    the 
soldiers  who  were  there ;  but  deterred  by  the  danger  which  in- 
creased every  moment,  he  landed  at  Stabia,  and  being  arrived  at 
the  house  of  his  friend  Pomponianus,  he  took  the  bath,  supped 
tranquilly,  and  slept.     The  danger  began  to  be  urgent — the  court 
into  which  his  apartment  opened,  began  to  be  filled  with  ashes — 
the  houses  were  so  shaken  by  the  earthquake,  that  they  visibly 
rocked  from  side  to  side  and  then  resumed  their  place.    Death 
was  imminent.     It  became  necessary  to  wake  him,  and  to  fly. 
The  sea  was  agitated  by  a  contrary  wind.     Every  one  was  flying 
to  the  country.     Pliny  called  for  cold  water,  and  having  swallow- 
ed two  mouthfuls,  a  cloud  of  sulphur,  the  avant-coureur  of  the 
flames  which  approached,  enveloped  and  stifled  him. — Precis  His- 
torique.    See  two  letters  written  by  Pliny  the  younger  to  Tacitus, 
describing  this  event  and  his  own  flight  with  his  mother  from  the 
terrible  volcano. 

44  The  combats  here  mentioned  were  actually  painted  on  the 
wall.     "  On  y  distinguoit  un  cheval  qui  fuyoit  devant  une  lionne, 
une  ourse  liee  avec  une  longue  corde  a  un  taureau,  afin  qu'ils  ne 
pusseut  s'eviter,  et  enfin  (ce  qui  etoit  spirituel)  une  tigresse  qui 
combattoit  avec  un  singe." 

They  placed  trees  and  plants  in  the  arena,  and  exhibited  there 
the  hunting  of  wild  beasts,  the  games  of  the  gladiators,  the  com- 
bats of  the  athletes,  and  those  which  took  place  on  foot  by  the 
light  of  flambeaux,  of  which  Enchion  speaks  at  the  supper  of 
Trimalchion. 

In  excavating  this  amphitheatre,  there  were  found  "  near  the 
entrance  and  in  the  corridors  six  skeletons ;  and  beside  them  two 
bracelets,  two  rings,  a  coin,  and  other  morsels  of  gold  ;  bronze 
coins,  and  a  packet  of  cloths,  in  which  was  a  lamp." — Sonucci. 


NOTES.  215 

"  Skeletons  of  eight  lions  and  of  one  man,  supposed  to  have 
been  their  keeper,  were  according  to  report  found  in  this  amphi- 
theatre."— Starke. 

45  Vesuvius,  in  its  eruptions,  commonly  emits  a  great  quantity 
of  sea-water  mixed  with  its  volcanic  substances.     Pompeii  was 
buried  only  under  ashes,  cemented  by  this  water  into  a  kind  of 
paste,  which  effectually  excluded  the  air,  and  contributed  greatly 
to  its  preservation.     The  casttof  a  female,  which  was  thus  fairly 
stamped,  has  already  been  mentioned  as  having  been  found  in  the 
house  of  Diomedes.     It  is  on  account  of  Pompeii  having  been 
buried  under  such  light  and  yielding  matter,  that  its  streets,  &c. 
are  so  easily  cleared  out ;  while  those   of  Herculaneum,  being 
buried  under  solid  lava,  are  penetrated  but  slowly  ;  since  the  way 
must  as  it  were  be  hewn  out  of  rock. 

I  would  here  correct  an  error  that  many  persons  seem  to  fall 
into,  which  is,  that  Pompeii  is  subterranean,  and  is  visited  by 
torch-lights.  It  is  on  the  contrary  entirely  open  as  far  as  the  ex- 
cavations admit,  and  it  is  entered  as  one  would  enter  any  other 
city. 

46  Speaking  of  the  skeletons  of  the  party  found  at  the  hemicycle 
near  the  Herculanean  gate,  Bonucci  observes,  "  Tous  etoient  sur 
une  hauteur  superieure  de  9  pieds  au  niveau  de  la  rue  ancienne  ; 
ce  qui  nous  assure  qu'ils  fuyoient  quand  le  sol  etoit  dej'a  extreme- 
ment  encombre,"  &c. 

47  The  Amphitheatre. — The  description  of  this  noble  edifice  has 
been  anticipated  in  the  course  of  the  foregoing  pages.     Little  now 
remains  to  be  described. 

"  One  is  astonished,"  says  Bonucci,  "  to  find  so  vast  a  monu- 
ment in  a  city  whose  inhabitants  could  hardly  suffice  to  fill  it.  It 
seems  capable  of  containing  about  twenty  thousand  persons. 
From  this  we  infer  that  the  neighbouring  inhabitants  were  accus- 
tomed to  frequent  the  spectacles  at  Pompeii.  What  confirms  this 
conjecture  is  the  squabble  which  occurred  there  between  the  colo- 
nists of  Nuceria  and  the  Pompeians,  at  an  exhibition  of  gladiators 
given  by  Livinejus  Regulus ;  and  which  rose  from  some  trifling 
cause.  The  account  of  it  is  given  by  Tacitus.  It  seems  that  from 
words  they  went  to  stones,  and  at  last  took  up  arms.  The  Pom- 
peians got  the  best  of  the  day ;  and  many  of  the  Nucerians  lost 


216  NOTES. 

their  lives  there.  The  Roman  Senate  in  consequence  prohibited 
these  spectacles  in  Pompeii  for  ten  years  ;  and  contrary  to  the 
laws,  broke  up  the  Colleges.  Livinejus  and  the  principal  offenders 
were  banished. 

The  construction  of  this  amphitheatre  is  very  solid,  and  is  in 
much  better  preservation  than  is  that  of  Pola,  Verona,  or  the 
Colosseum.  This  i$  mainly  owing  to  the  repairs  that  the  richest 
Roman  colonists  caused  to  be  made  after  the  injury  done  by  the 
earthquake  of  63.  Their  names  are  inscribed  on  the  edge  of  the 
left  parapet  that  surrounds  the  arena  ;  and  the  four  divisions  that 
are  seen,  corresponding  to  their  names  in  the  first  Cavea,  were 
doubtless  intended  for  these  restorers  of  the  amphitheatre,  who 
were  moreover  superintendents  of  the  spectacles. 

A  marble  announces  that  the  Duumvirs  C.  Valgus  and  M.  Por- 
cius  (the  same  who  built  the  covered  theatre)  had  given  them  a 
perpetual  place  at  the  spectacles. 

C.  QUINCTIUS  C.  F.  VALGUS 

M.  PORCIUS  M.  F.  Duo  Vm. 

QUIIVQ.  COLONI.S:  HONORIS 

CAUSSA  SPECTACULA  DE  SUA 

PEC.  FAC.  COER.  ET  COL.OKEIS 

LOCUM  IN  PERPETUOM  DEDER. 

The  names  of  these  colonists  are  written  on  the  step  or  scat 
assigned  them. 

It  was  the  business  of  the  Pontif  Cuspius  Pans-a  (to  whom  a 
statue  and  an  inscription  were  dedicated  at  the  other  entrance  of 
the  amphitheatre)  to  see  that  the  Petronian  law  was  enforced. 
C.  CUSPIUS  C.  F.  PANSA  PATER  D.  V.  I.  D. 
IIII.  QUINQ.  PRJEF.  ID.  Ex  D.  D. 

LEGE  PETRON. 

This  law  was  promulgated  under  the  reign  of  Nero,  and  consist- 
ed in  a  prohibition  to  cause  slaves  to  fight  with  gladiators  and 
wild  beasts,  unless  when  legally  condemned  to  it.  In  fact,  it 
seems  that  under  the  Duumvirate  of  Pansa,  wild  beasts  could  only 
fight  together. —  Translated  from  Sonucci. 

I  will  add  for  the  benefit  of  the  unlearned,  that  a  certain  num- 
ber of  seats  were  separated  from  those  behind  them  by  partitions, 


NOTES.  217 

like  those  separating  the  pit  from  the  orchestra  in  France,  for  the  use 
of  the  different  magistrates  ;  and  these  seats,  thus  separated,  were 
called  cavea.  As  the  circumferences  of  the  building  and  the 
arena  form  a  small  oval  in  a  large  one,  if  we  suppose  both  to  be 
divided  by  the  same  number  of  points  equidistant,  it  is  obvious 
that  lines  drawn  from  the  smaller  to  the  larger,  would  be  lines 
diverging  from  the  former;  i.  e.  having  the  form  of  a  wedge 
(cuneus.)  Now  the  entrances  to  the  amphitheatre  are  all  of  them 
in  the  range  of  lines  thus  drawn ;  and  hence  the  parts  included  be- 
tween the  vomitoria,  as  they  are  termed,  are  called  cunei.  This 
word  not  unfrequently  is  used  for  the  assembly  ;  "  all  the  cunei," 
as  we  often  say,  the  whole  theatre,  meaning  all  the  spectators. 


The  subjoined  is  merely  an  imperfect  list  of  the  objects  taken 
from  Pompeii  and  Herculaneum  and  placed  in  cabinets  in  the 
Museo  Borbonico.  To  those  who  take  an  interest  in  such  matters 
it  is  curious  to  see  this  catalogue  of  "  household  stuff,"  and 
to  note  its  approximation  or  entire  resemblance  to  our  own. 
They  are  set  down  as  they  were  taken  by  the  author  in  passing 
from  case  to  case. 

The  first  case  was  principally  filled  with  articles  of  food.  There 
were  bread,  nuts,  eggs,  almonds,  figs,  chesnuts,  olives,  shoes, 
vials,  &c.  In  the  second  case,  rings,  bread,  bracelets,  buckles, 
and  prunes  and  figs,  as  fresh  looking  as  if  just  put  up.  In  the 
third  case,  spoons,  salt-spoons,  cullenders,  a  silver  basin,  hair-pins, 
On  the  heads  of  which  were  little  figures  elegantly  carved — human 
and  other  figures.  In  another  room  were  saucepans,  stewpans,  pots, 
kettles,  frying  pans,  skillets,  &c.  Then  again  there  were  drinking 
vessels  in  the  form  of  horns,  heads,  &c. — urns  of  all  sizes — glass 
from  a  house  in  Pompeii — lachrymatories — the  skull  of  a  bird 
found  in  an  urn  with  the  ashes  of  his  master, — large  glass  tumblers 
a  foot  high — apothecaries  vessels — glass  vessels  crushed  out  of 
shape  but  unbroken — steelyards  whose  weight  is  some  finely  done 
figure,  as  the  head  of  an  emperor — a  tall  glass  bottle, — a  glass 
urn  for  the  dead — glass  necklaces,  with  beads  as  large  as  musket 
bullets,  and  thick  window-glass. 
19 


218  NOTES. 

Next  came  kitchen  utensils,  pies,  pans,  jars,  pastry-moulds — 
scales  of  bronze,  lamps,  jars  for  wine  and  oil,  weights  of  bronze, 
lead,  and  stone,  stamped  with  the  makers'  names — a  table — sacri- 
ficial vessels — a  portable  altar  for  sacrifice,  made  to  shut  up  some- 
thing like  an  umbrella — broad  shallow  basins  for  the  blood  of 
victims — drinking-cups  for  sacrifice — a  little  furnace  like  our 
modern  furnaces,  for  boiling  water,  &c.,  a  silver  lamp — an  in- 
cense-box— a  lustral  basin — a  sacrificing  knife — a  sponge  and  soap 
— bridle-bit,  like  ours,  a  curule  chair,  another  lustral  basin,  a  large 
tripod  altar,  arms  and  armour,  a  girdle,  a  quiver ;  a  circular  metal 
plate  with  a  hammer  to  give  notice  to  those  turning  a  corner — 
horse  furniture — bridles — spears — axes,  bucklers — a  pair  of  stocks, 
in  which  skeletons  were  found  detained  by  the  leg — a  stylus — an 
inkstand  with  the  dried  sediment  of  the  ink — stamps  for  different 
things — surgeons'  instruments — forceps,  pills,  probes,  a  catheter, 
an  instrument  something  like  the  modern  French  instrument  for 
extracting  stone,  tops,  ivory  theatre-tickets,  fish-hooks,  bagpipes, 
cowbells,  pieces  of  flutes,  ladies'  ornaments,  thimbles,  combs, 
pins  for  hair  ornamented  with  ivory,  a  furnace  like  our  modern 
economical  one  for  frying,  boiling,  broiling,  baking,  &c. — a  dis- 
tilling machine,  nails,  staples,  keys,  locks,  locks  with  the  key 
half  turned  and  fixed  so  by  rust,  &c. 

"  The  French  batterie  de  cuisine,"  says  Lady  Morgan,  "  seems 
to  have  invented  nothing,  not  to  have  added  even  a  casserole,  to 
the. gastronomic  necessaries  of  antiquity.  From  the  elegant  sil- 
ver butter-melter  of  a  Parisian  Amphytrion,  to  the  capacious  tur- 
bot-boiler  of  an  English  alderman,  every  culinary  article  may  be 
found  among  the  debris  of  the  kitchens  of  Pompeii.  The  specific 
purposes  of  these  vessels  are  evident;  but  the  elegance  of  their 
workmanship,  leaves  modern  luxury  hopeless.  They  are  almost 
all  of  bronze  or  fine  metal.  Many  offered  evidence  of  having  been 
silvered  within,  and  the  handles  were  of  such  exquisite  forms,  that 
any  one  of  them  might  afford  a  subject  for  taste  to  descant  on. 
The  water  urn,  having  a  place  for  a  heater,  was  beautiful  beyond 
description,  and  might  now  serve  the  purposes  of  the  most  refined 
tea-table.  A  stove  that  shows  an  anticipation  of  Rumford's  discov- 
eries, and  combines  great  elegance  and  economy,  was  probably 
placed  in  the  middle  of  the  apartment.  The  household  bell  is  not 


NOTES.  219 

only  most  exquisite  in  workmanship,  but  clear  and  silvery  in  its 
tones.  Several  dishes  of  bronze,  silvered  and  exquisitely  chased, 
with  handles  to  come  off  and  on,  evince  the  fine  organization  of  a 
people,  who  sought  even  in  the  coarsest  details  of  life,  for  forms 
to  gratify  their  elegant  and  high-wrought  imaginations." 

To  this  it  may  be  added,  that  even  the  well-curbs  are  of  ele- 
gantly carved  marble ;  and  it  would  seem  that  this  passion  for 
luxuries  descended  into  the  coarsest  details  of  life. 

Among  the  many  interesting  objects  in  Pompeii  is  the  House  of 
Cicero ;  and  although  the  house  known  by  his  name  has  but  a 
very  equivocal  claim  to  that  honor,  still  there  is  an  intense  interest 
in  the  feeling  with  which  we  observe  a  house  that  he  has  even 
been  supposed  to  have  occupied.  His  Pompeian  and  Tusculan 
villas,  he  says,  "  me  valde  delectant,"  but  whether  this  be 
his  "  Pompeianum  "  is  uncertain.  The  Abbe  Choupy  reckons 
twenty-four  country  houses  possessed  by  Cicero.  Without  at- 
tempting a  discussion  as  to  this  point,  I  shall  proceed  to  describe 
the  house  in  the  words  of  Bonucci. 

"  A  portico  and  shop  form  its  exterior  part ;  its  true  entrance  is 
in  the  place  where  are  seen  two  cones  of  masonry.  This  was  a 
spacious  and  well  decorated  house.  It  was  uncovered  at  different 
times  from  1749  to  1778,  and  afterward  covered  again,  according 
to  the  custom  of  those  times,  that  the  proprietors  of  land  there 
might  not  suffer.  By  its  plan,  we  see  that  having  entered,  we 
passed  into  an  uncovered  court.  We  then  arrived  at  an  elegant 
peristyle  by  a  long  passage,  at  whose  sides  were  the  stables,  the 
coach-house,  the  porter's  room,  and  other  dependencies.  Around 
the~peristyle  were  ranged  the  chambers  of  the  men ;  farther  in 
that  of  the  master  of  the  house  and  of  the  women,  with  the  cells 
and  galleries  that  look  out  upon  the  sea.  In  a  lower  story  was 
found  a  portico  which  surrounded  a  garden,  and  over  the  portico 
a  lodge,  whence  could  be  enjoyed  a  view  of  the  sea  and  of  the 
country  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  the  promenade  of  the  route 
conducting  to  the  city.  A  secret  door  (the  only  one  yet  discov- 
ered) opened  into  the  street  and  into  the  court,  where  were  found 
some  Etruscan  sepulchres. 

Among  the  remarkable  objects  which  decorated  this  villa,  the 
celebrated  paintings  of  the  eight  female  dancers  should  be  men- 


220  NOTES. 

tioned;  the  four  groups  of  the  Centaurs,  and  the  Funambuli 
which  decorated  an  eating-room.  Hence  too  were  taken  the 
two  mosaics  of  Dioscorides  of  Samos,  who  inscribed  there  his 
name.  They  represent  two  comic  scenes,  which,  according  to 
Winckelmann,  deserve  the  preference  even  over  the  celebrated 
ancient  Roman  mosaic,  the  doves,  which  has  hitherto  made  so 
much  noise. 

In  this  house  was  discovered  a  niche  embellished  with  a  frontis- 
piece, and  with  two  columns  ;  below,  a  wall  of  support  incrusted 
with  beautiful  marbles. 

At  a  little  distance  was  found  a  basin,  and  immediately  after,  in 
another  niche,  a  little  statue  of  marble  representing  an  old  man 
covered  with  a  goatskin  or  nebris,  who  bore  on  his  shoulder  a 
pitcher,  which  poured  water  into  the  bath. 

The  habitation  was  terminated  by  a  little  street  which  bounded 
it  on  one  side  down  to  the  seashore.  In  the  angle  was  a  pedestal, 
on  which  stood  a  consular  statue. 

Ex  ATJCTORITATE 

IMP.  CJESARIS 

VESPASIANI  AUG. 

LOCA  PUBLICA  A  PRIVATIS 

POSSKSSA  T.  SUEDIUS  CLEMENS 

TRIBUNUS  CAUSIS  COGNITIS  ET 

MENSURIS  FACTIS  REI 
PUBLIC-2E  POMPEIANORUM 

RESTITUIT. 

Near  by  at  the  entrance  of  the  street,  the  divinity  of  the  place 
(Lar  compitalis)  was  painted  on  the  wall  under  the  form  of  a 
large  serpent,  before  which  burned  a  lamp." 


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